Remember To Forget You
by DawnRed
Summary: 10 years ago, Arnold made the rash decision to go look for his parents in the jungles of San Lorenzo, but all he found was disappointment. Now back in Hillwood, he must confront all the people he left behind, the hardest one being the person he missed the most, the great love of his life, and the one he let get away. AXH. "Helga?" "Actually, I go by Geraldine. And you are?"
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer** **: I DO NOT OWN HEY ARNOLD!**

* * *

 _Ten years…_

Ten very long and very disappointing years.

Ten years—that's how long Arnold has been removed from society for. Self-subjected— Arnold boarded the next available flight to South America the second he graduated high school. He left so fast that his friends and classmates are still recovering from the whiplash.

Realistically though, who could blame him? Arnold had only been planning on finding his parents since the age of nine. Since he had stumbled across his father's journal, which contained a map and very important information to his parent's possible whereabouts.

For _years_ , Arnold had been planning on going to San Lorenzo in order to find his parents. However, since Arnold, then, was much too young and had no money for the trip nothing became of it. It wasn't until his grandparents died that Arnold became desperate to find his parents.

It happened during the winter of his junior year of high school. Sadly, it was a devastating car accident that took his grandparents from him, and not an illness associated with their old age, like everyone assumed would happen. Arnold was still bitter about his grandparent's death, and unfortunately he was never quite the same afterwards. Already very mature for his age, the death of his grandparents completely took what was left of Arnold's innocence and optimism. His last "silver-lining", if you will, was the realization that he was not alone, not completely. Somewhere in the jungles of San Lorenzo, his parents were still alive—waiting to come home. There was still hope for the happy family that Arnold so desperately craved.

With that realization, Arnold made a promise to himself, to get out of Hillwood as soon as he graduated—by any means. True to his word, Arnold boarded a plane the same day he graduated. He gathered all his savings; the money his grandparents left him, which wasn't much, the money put away for college since he obviously wouldn't be attending, and the money he earned from all the odd jobs he did around Hillwood—everyone only all too eager to give the poor orphan boy a job. No one saw him off, but not because they didn't want to.

All his friends and the Sunset borders tried to change his mind and get him to stay, and in order to appease them, but mostly to get them off his back, Arnold told them that he would take the summer between graduation and college to think about it. A necessary lie, he told himself, in order to save everyone grief goodbyes. In retrospect, Arnold admits that his abrupt departure was underhanded and selfish but he doesn't think he would have had the courage to leave otherwise. Especially not if _she_ had been there, defiantly wouldn't have left if she was there.

 _I wonder where she is now._

"Arnold?"

Startled, Arnold stares, wide-eyed, at the leggy brunette siting across from. Sitting perfectly poised with her slim legs crossed and her perfectly manicured hands resting in her lap is the resident Hillwood princess herself—Rhonda Lloyd. She no doubt found Arnold's lack of conversation rude but 10 years of solitude tends to stifle conversational skills. Besides, not much Arnold could talk about seeing as he was cut off from the world; he had no knowledge of the current politics, pop culture, or the whereabouts of any of his former friends.

"Spaced off for a bit, did we?" a playful smile teases the edges of Rhonda's mouth.

"Yea…uh… I guess I did." Arnold responds after sometime. However, it seems that wasn't enough of a response for Rhonda as she continues to stare at Arnold expectantly. Arnold just stares back, partly having nothing to say and partly having no interest in talking. After a few tense minutes, Rhonda's playful smile starts to drop and the insisting taping of her fingers becomes more apparent. Well that was a funny sight, Rhonda nervous. The great Rhonda Wellington Lloyd never got flustered, ' _don't sweat the small stuff, that's what the help is for' was_ a common mantra of hers during high school.

It seems like Rhonda is trying to get him to open up, understandable since up 'till now Arnold had revealed virtually no information about himself, restricting conversation only to appropriate hellos and yes or no answers. Rhonda, on the other hand, had, thus far, been very generous and welcoming.

She was also the reason Arnold was no longer stuck the jungles of San Lorenzo.

The day before yesterday, the day he finally gave in and called Rhonda, was October 5th, the anniversary of his parent's disappearance—the 28th anniversary to be exact. The realization hit him hard. The hurt and confusion surrounding his parent's disappearance was heightened when he realized that the last 10 years spent looking for them yielded nothing. Any and all leads he ever found, including his dad's map, lead to a dead end. He found plenty of people whom were helped by his parents, sure, but he never found the green-eyed people. He's beginning to think that the green-eyed people were just a figment of his father's overactive imagination.

 _Lord knows it runs in the family._

Arnold came to a very painful realization, well…more like he finally admitted something to himself that he knew deep down to be true all along. His parents were…dead. They were not out on some big adventure, helping people; they weren't trapped in some horrible situation needing to be helped, and they were definitely not trying to get back to him. With a heavy heart Arnold finally gave up on his search. This presented some problems, as Arnold was unsure of what to do next. Should he say in San Lorenzo? Move back home? Or should he just go somewhere new? Somewhere, where no one knew his name or his tragic past.

Arnold was at a loss about what to do next. He was alone in the middle of the jungle contemplating his life when a familiar tune from his small portable radio spurred up an old memory, taking him to another time and place.

" _May I cut in?"_

" _Um…" standing before him hip cocked to the side and looking radiant was Hillwood high's most elite person, Rhonda Lloyd._

" _Sure go right ahead."_

 _Ok, well Arnold was definitely not expecting that. He thought for sure his date would bite the head off of Rhonda before she even had a chance to touch him._

" _Um…are you sure? I'd rather keep dancing with you." He says earnestly._

 _Her response to his words is a wide grin and a blush._

" _I'm sure. I gotta use the little girl's room anyway. But no touching bellow the waist." She said the last part to Rhonda as she retreated towards the back of the gym._

 _Taking Arnold's hand and placing her left hand on his shoulder, Rhonda began to take lead._

" _Whoa Rhonda, always got to take charge don't you?"_

" _Hmm…I was under the impression that you like those 'take charge' girls."_

 _Arnold's eyes light up at Rhonda's statement and the two fall into a comfortable silence—swaying to the music._

" _So planning on leaving Hillwood?"_

 _Arnold tenses at her question. "Isn't everyone?"_

" _Well of course, everyone. Who wouldn't want to leave this place?" Rhonda said, gesturing with a flick of her wrist to the gym._

 _They continue to sway to the music, but the comfortable silence is replaced with an odd tension._

" _Personally, I'm spending the summer traveling before attending Columbia in the fall." Arnold gives Rhonda and odd-look, not sure if she was offering up information about herself in the hopes to get him to divulge his own cowardly plan. Before he can steer the conversation in another direction, however, she continues taking._

" _Yes, I'm so looking forward to this summer, I'll be going to Europe —Milan, Paris, Rome, and then probably Asia. I'll probably spend some time in Sydney and get a nice tan. Then, who knows, anywhere is possible. I could go to London, Egypt…maybe somewhere in South America."_

 _Arnold's eyes widen at Rhonda's last remark._

" _I've heard it's lovely this time of year. Who knows, maybe we could meet up." She says the last part with a sarcastic tone._

 _Arnold felt pure, unadulterated dread. "Rhonda…I-"_

" _Arnold, I'm not going to tell you what to do. I mean we're graduating seniors; each of us is in charge of our own future. Not sure why anyone would choose a dirty jungle over getting drunk a college party, but I digress."_

 _Arnold smiles weakly at that._

" _But, I will say this, whatever it is you're looking for, I hope you find it, just… don't hurt anyone in the process, including yourself."_

 _Arnold frowns at that "Rhonda, you know what I'm looking for. My parents, they…it's time for them to come home."_

 _Arnold and Rhonda continue to sway to the music as it comes to its end._

" _As for not hurting anyone…I don't-I mean…I won't…"_

 _The slow song comes to an end and Rhonda removes her hand from his shoulder._

" _I know."_

 _Rhonda's statement carried a lot of weight. Arnold figures it's her way of saying that she knows what he's going to do and that she understands why he feels the need to do it._

 _No judgment._

 _It's refreshing, to not have someone doubt and undermined his decision, but it's also a bit unnerving. Her candor and support makes what he's planning to do that much more difficult._

 _A few seconds of silence pass by before the next song comes on— a more up-beat song. Over Rhonda's shoulder, Arnold catches a flash of blonde and pink and a smile lights up his face. Before his date has the chance to reach them however, Rhonda stretches out her hand and puts it inside Arnold's tux jacket. She leans forwards as if to plant a kiss to his cheek, before she whispers, "If you ever need anything."_

 _Before Arnold can question her however, she plants a kiss on his cheek and walks away to join her date._

 _Arnold's date appears not a second later. "What was that about?"_

 _Arnold gives her a confused look "You know, I'm not really sure."_

" _Hmm…looks like she was saying goodbye." his date says with a sad far-off look; then it's rapidly replaced with a radiant smile as she grabs his hand and starts dancing._

 _The song and atmosphere is upbeat and fun, but Arnold can't shake the distressed look he saw on her face. As for what she said about Rhonda, he can't help but think that there was more to that exchange than a simple goodbye._

 _It's not until the next day, when he finds a white business card with the initials R.W.L and a series of numbers written on the back tucked into his tux jacket that he figures out what Rhonda was trying to say. It wasn't exactly a goodbye, not if she gave him this._

 _It was a promise. A promise that they would see each other again._

Arnold decided then that it was time to move on with his life, and going back home to Hillwood seemed like a good start. It seems inconsistent for him to want to go home, but at the same time want to leave his past behind, but he figured he left some loose ends in his mad dash to find his parents that he really needs to clear up. He owes it to the people in his life—friends and the boarders that care for him—to show up and bid them a proper goodbye. This time he wouldn't be a coward. He'd go home, stay through all the holidays, and by new years he'd be off on a new adventure—no baggage, nothing left unsaid.

Clean slate.

Feeling somewhat optimistic about his plan, Arnold fished out the crumpled business card with Rhonda's phone number and made the call. And that's how he ended up on a private jet with an estranged friend.

 _Tap. Tap. Tap_

Said estranged friend, normally calm and collected, currently nervously tapping away at her armrest. She must be fed up with the silence, or Arnold's uncharacteristically off-putting behavior. Her lips are pursed in way that tells Arnold she's biting her tongue, she clearly has questions, questions Arnold is not ready to answer. So, despite her curiosity, Arnold chooses to avoid eye contact with Rhonda, preferring the view of the clear skies.

With a sigh, Rhonda momentarily gives up on engaging Arnold; her mood still apparent as the tapping of her fingernails increases in intensity. Normally, Arnold would feel guilty and take Rhonda's feelings into consideration, but Arnold just didn't have it in him. He was a torrent of emotions, he felt disappointed, angry, frustrated, sad, and ultimately after ten years of emotional devastation, Arnold felt numb. There was simply no more room for guilt or other's problems.

 _Tap. Tap. Tap._

Arnold spared Rhonda a side glace. She had, thankfully, turned her attention away from him and was now staring at, what he presumed to be a cellphone. Her eyebrows were set in a frown as her glossy fingernails tapped away on the hard surface of her armrest.

 _Tap. Tap. Tap._

 _Sigh._ Despite his inner turmoil Arnold still felt…bad. He couldn't help it, really. Maybe despite all the sadness and disappointment and anguish, Arnold was still the boy with the cornflower hair and heart of gold. He smiles at the reference, bringing to mind a happy memory.

" _Uggh, disgustingly optimistic! The boy with the cornflower hair and heart of gold!"_

" _Cornflower? I'd say more sun kissed don't you think?" at this a smile spreads on her face, erasing all previous tension._

" _No. It's the optimistic boy with a heart of gold and cornflower hair. Always eager to help everyone…even if they are undeserving." She says the last part quietly, to herself, not meant for Arnold to hear._

 _But Arnold does hear her. "Is that…is that really what you think of me?"_

 _A chuckle escapes her lips "No Arnold, its not JUST what I think of you…. It's who you are."_

Arnold turns his gaze away from Rhonda and looks out the window once more. Right. _That_ Arnold wouldn't let Rhonda suffer like this. Rhonda has -is- doing him a tremendous favor—favor being used rather loosely as Arnold had yet to decide whether returning to Hillwood was a good or bad idea. _Still,_ Arnold thought _,_ 10 years is a long time and truthfully Arnold wasn't sure if that's who he is anymore. His heart wasn't as golden and full of pure intention anymore.

 _Tap. Tap. Tap._

"Arnold…Arnold?"

"Um…yea?" Arnolds responds, tearing his gaze away from the window to give Rhonda his attention.

"Just wanted to let you now that we'll be landing soon."

"Oh, um…ok, how long?"

"About a half hour."

 _Half hour,_ just 30 minutes before he's back home. Regrettably, Arnold is sad to realize that the fact does little to reassure him.

"Arnold, I know you don't want to talk. But I feel it's extremely necessary to…uh… bring you up to speed on a couple of things, as it where. I'm not sure if you're entirely aware of how long it's be since you've been off the radar-"

"Ten years" Arnold cuts off Rhonda's amusing nervous ramble. "I know…I've been counting."

Rhonda's nervous tick vanishes and an amused smile graces her face " Well, 10 years in a jungle with no cell service— I guess you had to find _someway_ to entertain yourself."

Arnold gives her a small grin at that. He appreciates how casual she's being about the whole thing; he wasn't exactly making it easier for her, but he was _trying…_ or at least he was attempting to try. Rhonda deserved that much at least.

Rhonda let's out a sigh, her features once more shifting from amusement to apprehension,

"Actually, Arnold…there's something you need to know before we land."

"Is this about the homecoming party you have planned for me?" Arnold asks with a bit of a playful smirk grazing his features.

"How did you know about that?!"

"Come on Rhonda. It's you. You'll plan a party for anything. Remember when you threw a party just because Harold and Patty started dating."

Rhonda lets out a huff, "That wasn't for nothing! That party—which was fabulous by the way—wasn't just to celebrate Harold and Patty's happiness. It was really cathartic for me. I mean Harold was the first boy I ever loved. I needed to symbolically let him go, and the best way to do that was to be happy for them, and nothing screams happiness like a party."

Arnold rolls his eyes "Yea, but was the champagne necessary? "

"Oh hush darling, everyone knows no great party is complete without champagne, which is why your welcome home party will also have champagne."

Rhonda and Arnold share a smile at that and for a second the 10 years and thousand miles between them doesn't seem so great.

"Actually now that you mention it, Harold and Patty got married recently. See, my parties are miracle workers."

"Married?" Arnold asks stunned.

Rhonda nods her head. "Yes! It was a summer wedding, not exactly up to my tastes, but still it was...quaint"

Arnold can't help but smile, as surprising as hearing that Harold got married was, it's nice to see that somethings haven't change—mainly Rhonda's extravagant tastes.

"What about you?"

Rhonda raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow "What about me?"

"Are you married?"

Rhonda laughs at his question, "Me? Married? Oh no darling. See the way it works with us trust fund children is you get 30 years of fun and networking and then when it's time to take over the family business, well that's when you settle down. I've still got 5 years."

Arnold givers her a confused look "But, wait, you're my age, doesn't that mean you got 2-3 years left?"

 _Unless I've miscounted,_ he thinks.

Rhonda just gives him a coy smile, "My, Arnold I don't know what you're talking about. I'm 25—have been for the past 3 years."

 _Oh—that explains it._

"Ok, well anything else I should know about?"

In a flash, Rhonda's coy smile vanishes. The lines of her face deepen ever so slightly.

"Well, as you have already guessed—I am throwing you a welcoming party, but before you protest or get a big head about it, you should know I was already planning a party before I received your rather…urgent phone call. As luck would have it, your arrival coincides with Hillwood high's 10 year reunion. And since I do _oh_ _so_ love planning parties and playing hostess I convinced the school to let me host the reunion party—at no charge of course."

Arnold lets out a deep sigh as he slumps into his seat. "A reunion? As in everyone we've ever gone to school with will be there?" Oh no, Arnold wasn't even sure how he felt about coming home—hell he didn't even know if he still considered Hillwood home! Now he was being told that after 10 years of self-imposed isolation he would have to interact with people—former friends who would all talk to him, ask him questions that he couldn't answer as they rattled on about what they've been doing with they're lives. Arnold didn't think he could handle it, having to hear all about how his friends moved on with their lives, while he... well he was still trying to pick up the pieces of his broken past. Arnold ran his hands over his face, frustrated. He didn't think he could do this.

He was about to tell Rhonda that he'd have to skip the party before a thought occurred to him.

 _Would she be there?_

"Well not everyone—just our graduating class, and only those who've RSVPed, but-"

"Will Helga be there?"

Arnold instantly regretted it. He hadn't meant to ask about her. He knew he had no right to ask, but the question was burning a hole in his mind, as well as about a thousand more questions that had to do with Helga. _What was she doing now? Did she still live in Hillwood? Was she married?_

Rhonda just stared at him with a strange hard, almost sad look; it made Arnold regret asking that much more.

"Actually…" She starts, clearly trying to choose her next words carefully, "No. Helga is not going to be attending the reunion."

Arnold's eyebrows deepened into a frown. He is equal parts relieved and disappointed. He wants to ask more but knows that he can't.

"What about you Arnold?"

"What? Will I be attending? Rhonda I—"

Rhonda raises a hand at him, cutting Arnold off, "No, you will be attending the party, that's a fact, I will not take no for an answer." Arnold's frown deepens even further at her words. He's ready to protest but bites his tongue as Rhonda keeps talking. "I was asking about you." Rhonda's features soften, "How have you been, Arnold?"

Arnold lets out a breathless, humorless chuckle. "Truthfully…I've been better." A few seconds of silence passes between them. "You know after my grandparents died…" Arnold hesitates. He's not ready to talk about this, doesn't want to, but he feels so overwhelmed by everything—its like he's drowning. He catches Rhonda's eye once more. She's still and waiting patiently for him to go on, the same soft expression as before still present on her face. It should be reassuring—except its not.

Arnold tears his gaze away from Rhonda. A few more silent seconds pass by between them. Eventually, Arnold swallows back his… _distress_ , for lack of a better term, and softly says "I just…I didn't think it could get any worse than that."

An awkward silence follows, at least awkward to Arnold, before it's eventually broken by the pilot's voice over the PA system.

"Please buckle in, we're about to start our descent."

Arnold and Rhonda both settle in, as the small private jet starts its descent into Hillwoods' private airport. If it's even more possible, Arnold feels worse than he did before—absolute dread courses through him.

 _This was a bad idea_ he thinks before Rhonda speaks up.

"I guess you didn't find what you were looking for?"

Arnold stares wide eyed at Rhonda, the memory of their last exchange replaying in his head. He used to think that the card Rhonda gave him was her optimistic promise that they were going to see each other again. That they would still be friends and that she'd help him—should he need it. He didn't think he'd ever need it, honestly, but the thought of her continued friendship meant so much to him. But now…now in his anguished state of mind he can't help but feel like the card was a promise, not of a friendship, but a guarantee that he'd fail, that he should have listened to her—to everyone.

"No" Arnold says sharply, "I didn't."

Rhonda jumps back a little at his sharp tone. Rhonda is not easily intimidated, but coming from Arnold, it's jarring.

There is a slight turbulence as the plane touches down on the landing stip. The plane still has to station itself before either her or Arnold can get out. Not liking how tense things have gotten, Rhonda takes the last few minutes they have together to reassure Arnold.

She reaches out a hand to Arnold and places it on his arm, the muscles underneath instantly tensing up.

"I am truly sorry Arnold, really." Arnold's glare softens a bit. "But just because the jungles of South America didn't have what you were looking for doesn't mean you can't find it here."

Arnold's glare disappears and is replace by a confused expression. Rhonda smiles. Before either of them can say anything else, a gentleman in a black suit opens up the doors of the plane.

Outside, a black town car is waiting for them—the driver already holding the door open for them. As Rhonda makes her way toward the car, Arnold takes a minute to take in Hillwood's skyline. 10 years ago, when Arnold first set off on his quest, he had dreams of this moment—of being home again. He expected it to be this big euphoric moment, where he would finally feel at peace and whole again. That's not how he feels at all, but then again Arnold always envisioned he'd share this moment with his parents.

"Arnold are you coming?"

Arnold makes his way over to the car, where Rhonda stands outside waiting for him. Arnold extends his hand to indicate that Rhonda should go in first, but she simply waves him off. "Ladies don't slide, darling."

Arnold rolls his eyes at her and gets in the car, followed shortly by Rhonda.

Arnold looks out the window of the town car as it travels further away from the airport and deeper into the heart of the city. When Rhonda had initially picked him up from the jungles of San Lorenzo it was dawn, and the sun had only begun to rise. Now, in Hillwood, it looks like it's noon. If Arnold didn't know better, and wasn't current experiencing jetlag, it would seem like only earlier this morning that he was waking up to the soothing sounds of the jungle. But those days were behind now. Instead of waking up to the pleasant sounds of birds singing, or the occasional monkey howl, he'd get to wake up to the chaotic sounds of the city—blaring alarms, car horns, and irritable nosy borders.

Arnold is seriously reconsidering his decision of coming back to Hillwood.

As the car makes its way through Hillwood, they pass many of the gang's old hangouts; like the arcade that Arnold and Gerald would frequent on a regular basis, the old theater, Slausen's ice cream parlor, and to his great surprise Gerald field, which hadn't been converted into a parking lot, or building structure of some sort. He sees a group a children on the field playing baseball, shouting out plays, and cheering each other on. Arnold can't help but smile at the scene as a wave of nostalgia hits him.

"Its good to see that some things don't change, hmm?" Remarks Rhonda, smiling at scene.

"Yea…its is. I'm surprised they didn't make an office building or something."

Rhonda nods her head. "It wasn't for lack of trying. I think there were plans to make one, but the neighborhood kids protested the development. Apparently they made such a fuss that eventually the project fell through."

"Huh, well that's good to hear."

"It is indeed." The smile on Rhonda's face leads Arnold to believe she played a role in the salvation of Gerald field, that or she's feeling nostalgic as well.

They make their way pass Gerald field and eventually end up passing another Hillwood landmark, although Arnold almost doesn't recognize it.

"Is that…Is that Mighty Pete?"

Rhonda looks to her right, "Mm-hmm."

"They tore it down."

"Yea, too many homeless people were taking to sleeping in the treehouse. Officials deemed it unsafe for the children… and unsanitary. But on the bright side they did build a homeless shelter in its place."

"I guess…"

Rhonda laughs. Arnold almost asks her what she finds so funny, but he's still not too comfortable with conversation, and prefers not to speak more than he already has. It's not that Arnold literally isolated himself completely for 10 years, he spoke to the locals when he could, or more like when they understood him, but there were times were he would go weeks without speaking to another person. His only companions being the non-English speaking, often mute, guides or the harmless creatures that took to following him around. He realizes that with the reunion/welcoming party tonight, he's going to have get over his aversion to small talk, and fast.

Regardless, it will be a very awkward night to say the least.

The car pulls up to a very familiar looking block, at first he assumes it's his, but when they drive down and he doesn't see any familiar landmarks, he begins to think he may have been wrong. It's a bit jarring to Arnold, 10 years is a long time to be away from home, but he didn't think it would alter his memory of where he'd grown up.

 _Maybe I'm just tired._

It's not until they pass a particular brownstone that Arnold is reminded of why this block is so familiar. It wasn't his home, or a home away from home, or even a very welcoming place to be actually, but it was a place that he'd visited a lot during high school. His memories of this place are so vivid that he can clearly picture them now; late nights walking the one person he missed the most, holding her hand, standing on the front porch and kissing her goodnight. He licks his lips unconsciously, and it's as if he can still taste her mango flavored lip-gloss.

"Pataki residence." Rhonda states, breaking Arnold away from his sweet memory.

"Ahem…yea, I recognize it." Arnold makes a point of not looking at Rhonda, his attention solely on the brownstone. The curtain of one the front windows is open, and he spots a flash of blond walk by. He's not sure if its Helga or not, it could be her mother or even her sister as they all share the same hair color, but for a second he's positive that it's her. Rhonda told him that she wouldn't be attending the reunion tonight, so does that mean she no longer resides in Hillwood? That would make sense as all she ever wanted to do was get out. But if she doesn't want to attend the reunion, it might be because she knows he'll be there. He can't imagine her being happy to see him. So, there might actually be a possibility that she still lives in Hillwood…right?

"Hey, Rhonda." Arnold shifts his attention to Rhonda, and is surprised to see she's not on her phone but is instead looking at the Pataki brownstone with an unreadable expression on her face. Rhonda snaps out of it when she hears her name.

"Yes?"

"Does, uhh, does Helga still live there?" he asks, pointing to the brownstone they just passed.

Rhonda's expression shifts, mirroring the same hard, almost sad expression she had on the plane. "No. I'm afraid _Helga_ , not longer resides there, nor in Hillwood." She puts an odd amount of emphasis on Helga's name, but offers no further explanation. Eventually, she turns her hard stare to her phone, effectively cutting off any questions Arnold might have. Whatever it is that's got Rhonda this...agitated, she's not willing to talk about it. Arnold wonders if it has anything to do with him leaving so abruptly 10 years ago. He understands Helga feeling mislead, even betrayed, about it. He promised her once that he'd never leave her, and he's disgusted with him self that at the first chance he got he left. No warning, no goodbye. He was with her one day, and the next he was gone.

Helga didn't have many people in her life she could turn too, but Rhonda, surprisingly, was one of them. Helga probably confided in her in the days following his departure. Rhonda may have been doing him a major favor, but she might feel just as betrayed as Helga.

If Arnold didn't feel uncomfortable before, he sure does now.

The car makes a sharp right onto a block that Arnold instantly recognizes as his. The boarding house is still further down the road, and as they approach their destination they pass by some very familiar shops. Not much has changed in his old neighborhood. They pass by a few stores that don't seem to have been affected by the last 10 years, until they reach a very familiar meat shop. Where was once Green Meats, stands a nice looking bistro called Green's Deli. It's a sleek, modern looking place that seems off place in a neighborhood like this. It seems to be doing well, judging from the amount of people outside, but the store is the complete opposite from Mr. Green's style.

 _What happened?_

He looks at Rhonda, the unspoken question clear on his face, hoping for answers, but her attention is still on her phone. Guess he'll find out later.

Up ahead the Sunset Arms comes into view. The car starts to slow and eventually stop when it pulls up to the front door. The boarding house is just like he remembers it— giant green door and all. The building is bathed in sunlight, making the building appear more grand and radiant than it really is. They've repainted recently, he notices.

"We're here." States Rhonda.

Arnold nods his head absentmindedly, "Yea…we are."

"Ready?"

That was the million-dollar question, wasn't it? Was he ready? Ready to be a part of society again, ready to live in the Sunset Arms, the only home he's ever had that reminds him too much about both set of parents he's lost. Was he ready to face his old friends, and neighbors? Was he ready for the questions, and the pitting looks? To be honest, he didn't know. He suspects he isn't, but it makes him feel too cowardly, and that makes the pit in his stomach feel worse.

Arnold lets out a long-suffering sigh. Guess there is only one way to find out.

"As I'll ever be."

He opens the car door and steps out.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : Believe it or not, I thought up this story back when I was in high school, so about 4 years ago now. It's been sitting in my laptop for far too long and now that we're FINALLY getting the Jungle Movie, and the fandom is coming back to life, I'd thought I'd finally get around to writing this story. So please let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

Arnold barely has a foot out the car when he's bombarded with the loud noise of trumpet playing. The tune is reminiscent of the jovial sound used to announce royalty or the arrival of someone very important.

He finishes getting out of the car and is greeted with a crowd gathered around the steps. They look festive, holding signs saying 'Welcome Home!' and decorating the front steps with streamers and balloons. It's a small crowd, no more than a handful of people, but a crowd none-the-less and Arnold is very uncomfortable with it. He hopes the discomfort doesn't show on his face, especially when they all look so ecstatic at his return.

"Arnold!"

The first to greet him is Mr. Hyunh. He rushes down the front steps and opens his arms wide. Before Arnold has time to protest, the older man wraps both his arms around him.

"I'm so happy to see you!"

Arnold stands rigid for a moment before awkwardly patting the other man on the back. He notices a growing bald spot on the top of the other man's head. The vantage point surprises Arnold, as the last time he saw Mr. Hyunh he was shorter than him. Guess he grew some while away in the jungles of San Lorenzo.

"Um… yeah. It's good to see you too Mr. Hyunh."

Mr. Hyunh releases him and Arnold catches sight of his trademark silly grin. It stretches wide on his faces causing wrinkles to appear around his eyes. It's familiar, warm, and sincere enough that Arnold can't help but smile back. A genuine smile, the first he's had in a very long time. The pleasant moment between the two men is broken by various shouts of "Arnold!" from the other boarders.

"I'm so glad you're back!"

"Look at how tall you've gotten!"

"Oh! You're so tan."

Arnold is surrounded on all sides. It reminds him of when he'd visit villages in San Lorenzo, and he'd get swarmed by the local kids. A lot of those villages had never been visited by outsiders before, especially by ones so tall and white as Arnold. The adults were weary of him but many of the local kids—too young to be untrusting—would gather around him, poking, prodding, and chattering about. He never minded it; in fact, he rather enjoyed it. He liked seeing how happy the kids were to see him. He'd even give out candy if he had any.

Arnold doesn't enjoy the crowd gathered around him now nearly as much as he did when he was in San Lorenzo and he doesn't think candy will make it any better. The distressed look on his face, while not obvious to the boarders, must read as a clear cry for help to Rhonda as she comes to his aid a moment later.

"Alright. Alright." She says clapping her hands to get everyone's attention. The boarders stop talking and turn to look at her.

"Rhonda?" Asks Suzie, tilting her head to the side and squinting her eyes at the woman in question.

"Yes. It is I." Responds Rhoda with a flourish as she slips off her pair of designer sunglasses.

Ernie snorts. "Last we saw you, you were a small thing! It's been too long."

"Taller than you," Rhonda mumbles quietly enough that Arnold is the only one that hears her. She approaches the group waving her hand to signal they get out of her way.

"Would you people let him breathe. It's not like he's going anywhere."

"Rhonda's right. Arnold is probably exhausted from the flight. How about we all go in." suggests Suzie.

"Suzie is right. Arnold, we have a feast waiting for you inside!" says Mr. Hyunh excitedly. "Nothing but the best."

"As well as some other surprises." Adds Mr. Potts wiggling his eyebrows. Despite Ernie's excitement, Arnold is dreading to see what more _surprises_ could await him inside.

"Rhonda care to join us?"

"Of course." She answers, grabbing hold of Arnold's hand and dragging him inside. It's like she can sense his reluctance.

Once inside Arnold catches a whiff of some good old-fashioned comfort food. It smells _heavenly_. Oh, how he has missed the taste of good old American comfort food. Mash potatoes, corn on the cob, fried chicken, burgers—God, he could really go for a cheeseburger right now.

"Oh. Smells like…carbs. Yum!"

Arnold rolls his eyes at Rhonda's fake enthusiasm and follows the rest of the boarders into the dining room, eager to get a taste of whatever is cooking. His jaw nearly unhinges itself when sees the massive spread of food laid out on the table.

"You weren't kidding about the feast."

"Yes! I brought food from the restaurant. It's very good. I also made your all your favorites! Mai helped me."

That manages to get Arnold's attention away from the food. "Wait…Mai? As in your daughter Mai?"

"Hello, Arnold." Greets an Asian woman walking out of the kitchen carrying a big green pot. Guess that answers his question. He shouldn't be so surprised to see her here. Mai often came to the boarding house to visit her father.

"Yes, yes! My daughter. She is very excited to see you. She cooked."

Mai laughs and places the green pot on the table. " Oh cha! It was nothing. He did most of the cooking. I only helped a little. But it is very good to see you again. I didn't know if we would ever get the chance to share another meal together." Mai has always been a very calming person, and Arnold always welcomed her presence around the boarding house. He can honestly say that's he's honored she showed up to his homecoming.

"Thank you." He says sincerely.

"There's the man of the hour!" yells the boisterous voice of another woman exiting the kitchen. She's as tall as Arnold but more voluptuous. She throws her arms around Arnold at the same time that something small comes running past him, bumping into his legs and knocking him off balance.

"Alek!"

Arnold almost tumbles over with the large woman still on him, but Ernie grabs hold of her and Rhonda manages to steady him.

"Lola, baby, you okay?" Ernie asks the large woman in his hands.

"Oh Ernie, I'm alright."

"Lola?" Arnolds asks still confused and disoriented by what just happened in the last few seconds.

"Oh, Arnold! I am so sorry. Are you okay? It was an accident. Alek usually has better manners than this. Really! Oh, Arnold, I am so sorry." Arnold tears his confused gazed from the large woman—Lola—in Ernie's arms to face Suzie as she rambles on. She's flushed, clearly embarrassed about what just happened, but why, Arnold can't figure out. Then he spots a little boy hiding behind Suzie's legs. The way he cowers behind her and darts his eyes between them makes him look like a typical boy who knows he's in trouble for doing something bad, but then Arnold notices the tiny little smirk on his face.

He looks familiar.

"I'm guessing this is Alek?" he says pointing to the child hiding behind Suzie.

"Oh!" Suzie looks downs shyly, "Yes. This is my son. Arnold meet Alek. Alek this is Arnold, he grew up in this boarding house just like you." Alek waves his hand but doesn't say anything.

"Hi, Aleck. Oh wow, son? Guess I've missed a few things." Arnold says seriously, he's not trying to be funny but everyone laughs anyway.

"You got that right, kid."

Looking at Alek, Arnold realizes that there's a missing border. He looks around trying to spot the weasel, and when he doesn't he asks, "Where's Oskar?"

The energy in the room turns noticeably darker, and despite being even more curious, Arnold regrets asking.

"Who's Oskar?" asks the small boy.

 _Shit_ , now he really regrets asking.

"Oh, um…" Begins Suzie awkwardly. "Oskar…. was, uh, Arnold's…old pet! Yea. Sorry Arnold, but he's no longer with us."

Ernie snorts, "He outran his usefulness."

"He got too old!" adds Mr. Hyunh.

"What type of pet was it?" Alek asks.

"Snake."

"Rat."

"Dog." Mr. Hyunh, Ernie, and Suzie say in unison. Suzie clears her throat, "It was a dog, honey."

"Surprise after surprise, huh Arnold?" Mumbles Rhonda. "Okay, how about we all sit! We can catch up over lunch. Arnold looks positively famished."

Everyone takes their seats. Arnold sits sandwiched between Rhonda and Lola, and across from him sits Alek. Plates of food are being passed around, and there are some murmurs here and there. For the most part, Arnold tunes them all out. His only focus is on the little boy in front of him.

Now that he gets a good look at him he notices that the boy looks an awful lot like Oskar, but with Suzie's coloring. He's got not doubt that Alek is indeed Oskar's son. Which begs the question.

 _Where is Oskar?_

The last time he saw him things were good between him and Suzie. Well, _good_ is a stretch. Things were _normal_ between them. Did Suzie finally have enough of him and kick him out? That seems out of character for her, especially if she had a child with Oskar. Did Oskar leave when he found out he was going to have a kid? Who just abandons their family like that? Oskar better pray that he doesn't run into Arnold because if he does, it won't be pretty.

He is a black belt after all.

"Arnold?" a raspy voice next to him takes his attention away from the young boy, who has caught on to the fact that Arnold was staring and is now frowning at him.

"Yea?" He turns and sees Lola extending the bowl of mash potatoes to him. "Thanks." He says taking the bowl from her and putting a generous amount of potatoes on his plate.

"So as I was saying." Says Ernie, continuing with a story that Arnold was meant to be hearing. "I ran into Lola again, and you know how people fall into old habits."

"Oh, Ernie!" teases Lola swatting him in the arm.

"Anyway. I thought to myself; I'd be a real fool if I let this dame get away again. So I got up the nerve to ask, and here we are Mr.—"

"And Mrs. Potts!" Lola finishes, passing Arnold another bowl of food.

Arnold almost loses his grip on the bowl. "Oh…wow. Congratulations. When did this happen?"

"About three years ago."

"Yea, that's about the same time we moved out of the boarding house, and now we have this cute little place not too far from the water."

"Oh. Ernie, you don't live here anymore?"

Lola and Ernie give him confused looks.

"No, Arnold. They don't. They mentioned it when we sat down." Says Rhonda followed by a small laugh, "Oh Arnold! That jetlag must really be getting to you."

Lola and Ernie's twin looks of confusion give way to understanding. Arnold for his part doesn't feel all that bad about not having heard them, but when he gets a sharp nudge from the brunette beauty sitting to his right, he feels obliged to look somewhat sheepish.

"Oh yea, sorry. Jetlag you know."

He receives various nods from around the table, but Arnold's attention is already on the appetizing meal in front of him. He begins to dig in with gusto. Savoring the chicken, and indulging on the potatoes. GOD! Did he mention how much he missed comfort food? American food in generally, really.

Nothing beats the taste of home.

Arnold continues to eat oblivious to the uncomfortable silence that befalls the dining room. He downs his drink and looks around the table for the pitcher. In his search, he finds that everyone's eyes are on him.

He self-consciously touches his face. Does he have something on it? No, he doesn't. He knows he's eating rather fast, but he's not being a total slob. So then why are— _Oh_ , he thinks.

They want to know about his trip.

The boarders keep shifting their gaze between him and their meals, but no one has said anything. Arnold is not sure what Rhonda told them, besides the fact that he was coming home today. Not much, he figures, as Rhonda herself doesn't know much about his trip. The boarders are practically shaking in their seats they're so curious. They're probably all wondering the same thing— _Where are his parents?_

Arnold wishes he had the answer.

Arnold clears his throat. "So…" he starts, instantly getting everyone's attention, "I see you repainted."

The boarders visibly deflate at his words. It's subtle, but he hopes they pick on the fact that he wishes not to discuss San Lorenzo…or his parents.

"Yes!" responds Mr. Hyunh. "It needed new paint, and like I promised, I've been taking good care of the boarding house."

Arnold nods his head gratefully.

Mr. Hyunh has been in charge of the Sunset Arms since his grandparent's untimely death. Unbeknownst to Arnold, his grandparents had crafted a will that would leave ownership of the boarding house to him; _however_ , in the event that his grandparents were to die before Arnold's 18th birthday, they had left the deed to Mr. Hyunh. Mr. Hyunh assured Arnold that they had talked to him about it before they passed. Mr. Hyunh was both honored and relieved. _"This is the only home I've ever known, Arnold. I'm honored they think I'm responsible enough to run it."_ Even more significant than the boarding house, Mr. Hyunh also gained custody of the young Arnold.

With no other family members, Arnold's grandparents were afraid that he would be placed in the system and be uprooted from his home and friends. They thought that of all the boarders Mr. Hyunh was the most responsible. He had a daughter and a stable job. He is also a gentle and caring man and, honestly, they had nobody else that they could turn to. Mr. Hyunh was very respectful of Arnold's feelings, and if he wasn't comfortable with Mr. Hyunh being his guardian, he promised Arnold he'd decline. Arnold agreed it was the best possible situation for him and it was, Mr. Hyunh was a very good guardian. Arnold couldn't have asked for better.

The will specified that the boarding house would be handed over to Arnold when he was 18. Arnold had confined in Mr. Hyunh that he didn't know what he was going to do with the boarding house when it was passed on to him. He'd be leaving soon—for college they all thought—and he didn't know if he could manage the boarding house while living in another state—or country. He debated selling but felt bad about displacing all the borders.

That's when Mr. Hyunh promised he'd continue to take care of the boarding house in Arnold's absence.

A promise he has kept for the last ten years.

"I see that, thank you." He says sincerely. Mr. Hyunh beams at his gratitude. "So, since Ernie moved out has anyone taken residence in his room?"

"No one permanent." answers Mr. Hyunh.

"Yea." Adds Suzie, "Most of the renters we get are temporary. Vacationers or people here on business, that sort of thing."

Arnold nods his head again. He has nothing else to say—nothing he _wants_ to say, and the silence from before returns. Arnold goes about eating his meal. As long as they're not staring at him, he doesn't really feel bothered by the silence.

It's obvious other people don't feel the same.

"So you lived in the jungle?" Asks Alek, tilting his head to the side in question. He looks so much like his mother when he does that, it's endearing.

"Um, yea," Arnold answers, swallowing his latest bite.

"Did you see any lions?"

"There aren't any lions in South America."

"Oh. So what did you see?" It's apparent that Alek isn't the only one interested in Arnold's answer. The other boarders lean in, intrigued by what he has to say. Arnold doesn't see the harm in a few questions, as long as it doesn't have anything to do with his parents.

"Well," He starts, taking a sip of his drink. "I saw monkeys, snakes, donkeys…birds."

"We have birds here." The boy says unimpressed.

"You have pigeons here, yes. But the kinds of birds I saw are different. They're rare and beautiful. Colorful. Some are _huge_ , with a wingspan the size of your arm, and some are tiny enough to fit in your hand. They sing too—beautifully, all day and night."

The boy leans in, captivated by Arnold's words. "What other things did you see?"

"The jungles are full of all sorts of wildlife. I ran into a sleeping jaguar once. That wasn't fun. There is also all kinds of plant life, vibrant and exotic looking—and fruits too. Fruits you've never seen before. 'Course you have to be careful about what you pick. Some of those fruits are poisonous."

"How did you know what fruits not to eat?"

"I had a guide. Someone that was born and raised there helped me navigate my way around. He told me what to eat and what not to eat." Arnold replies easily. Unlike the stiff conversations he's had with the others since his arrival in Hillwood, surprisingly, Arnold finds talking to the little boy very easy and enjoyable.

"Wow…were there waterfalls?" the boys asks excitedly.

"Yea—"

"And crocodiles?"

"Yup."

"Anacondas?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"What about piranhas?"

"None that I ever saw, luckily."

"Wow." The boy says again, breathlessly. "That is so awesome!"

Arnold chuckles, "Yea, you're right. It was pretty awesome."

"Then why did you leave?"

It is at this time that Arnold no longer enjoys the conversation.

"Um, I uh, I wanted to…visit. Yea, I wanted to visit my friends, and… _family_. I was overdue for one."

"You got that right!" Ernie says with a laugh, slamming his hand on the table. Everyone laughs and agrees with him.

"We are so glad you did!"

"Wait," The boy says. "Visit? So…that means you're going back, right? Cool! Can you bring me something? Did you bring something with you today? Can I see it?"

"Honey, slow down. One question at a time." Suzie places her hand on her son's arm, urging him to go easy on their guest. He pouts but stops his rapid fire questioning. "Sorry Arnold, Alek gets really excitable. He didn't mean to interrupt your meal; you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

Arnold looks down at his plate, but his appetite is gone. Alek has reminded Arnold about how he utterly failed at the one thing he has set out to do for the last ten years. Even though he managed to cover up the real reason for why he came back, he doubts any of the boarders actually believed him. His lack of parents is enough evidence to prove that the orphan boy is still just that—an orphan.

"Oh well, hold on a minute, Suzie. I'm kinda curious. Are you planning on going back to San Lorenzo, Arnold?" Lola asks.

 _Shit_. The others probably think he's back for good. He's not sure if he should tell them the truth or not. He wasn't really planning on it, but if he came back to made amends with all his friends only to leave a few months later, isn't that just as bad as what he did the first time around? He doesn't want to tell anyone the truth because it will dampen any real efforts he wants to make at reconciliation as superficial.

On the other hand, his friends might feel equally jaded if he abruptly leaves after months of them thinking everything is back to normal.

He thinks telling the truth might be for the best but further down the line and in a more private setting. Blurting out the truth now would just ruin the homecoming. Arnold may not care much for the party itself—well, besides the food—but the boarders went through a lot of trouble to prepare it for him, and he's genuinely thankful.

There's also the fact that Arnold isn't looking forward to the mountain of questions he's sure to get if he tells everyone he plans to leave at the start of the new year.

The table continues to look at him expectantly. More than enough time has passed since Arnold should have answered and it's starting to look suspicious, and just plain weird, that he hasn't answered yet.

"Uhh…" He starts unsure of what to say.

Luckily, Arnold is saved from having to answer by Rhonda's quick thinking.

"He means visit the way a person who has lived in one single place for far too long means visit." The boarders give Rhonda a perplexed look, and Arnold does too. What in the world is she talking about?

"Obviously Hillwood is Arnold's home. But let's not forget that for the last ten years he's lived in the jungles like some type of modern-day Tarzan." She pops a grape into her mouth and chews it slowly. He's a bit surprised that among the various delicious fried and baked foods there were fruits available. Leave it to Rhonda to root out the only non-fat option.

The boarders continue to watch Rhonda as she chews—slowly. No one says anything, waiting for Rhonda to make her point, or to at least make it in a clear way. It's just like Rhonda to leave a group of people waiting in anticipation.

"It was a slip of the tongue." She finally says, waving her hand around airily. "A turn of phrase. It's a visit because he hasn't been home in ten years. To Arnold, the jungles have been home for the last ten years. He meant to say come home, as opposed to come for a visit. Besides, this is technically a visit in that he will be visiting his old friends and hangouts and whatnot, but it's not like he's going back to San Lorenzo. Right, Arnold?" She pops another grape into her mouth and stares at him. From the outside, it looks rather innocent, but Arnold knows better.

Rhonda has made impossible—almost diabolical— things happen.

Helga once told him that Rhonda's magnetism was nothing more than privilege and entitlement disguised as confidence. _"Daddy's money can make anything happen, Arnoldo. She only thinks she's royalty because she can afford to live like one."_ That was said before Helga and Rhonda became close friends, but still, at the time, Arnold couldn't help but agree with her.

Now, however, Arnold can't help but think that Rhonda's power lies in the gaze of her dark chocolate brown eyes. It's equal parts beautiful and threatening, compelling him to do as she wants.

"Right. Of course. I'm not going back to San Lorenzo." It's not exactly a lie. Rhonda may have assumed he planned to go back, but he knows as well as her that his phone call was a one-way trip. He will not be returning to San Lorenzo, but he will leave again, and no matter how hard her gaze, this isn't something Rhonda will be able to persuade him of otherwise.

"That sucks." Mumbles Alek. Suzie affectionately pats down his hair.

"You had us going there for a minute." Says Ernie with a laugh. "We'd hate to lose you again."

"Yea. That'd be a real shame!" exclaims Mr. Hyunh.

"So Arnold, what are you planning on doing now that you are back?" asks Mai.

Arnold shrugs his shoulders, "Visit friends mostly and explore the city a little like Rhonda said. I want to get acclaimed to city life again, I guess."

"What about work?" Suzie asks innocently.

Arnold looks down at his plate sheepishly. Since everyone assumes he's staying in Hillwood for good, it makes sense that they would inquire about what his long-term plan was for making a living. Arnold hadn't thought of that. He wasn't planning on working while he was here. He probably should get a part-time job, though; he'll need to save up money for his next adventure.

"I hadn't really thought of that. I had plenty of odd jobs before I left, so I'm sure I'll be able to find some type of work." He answers nonchalantly.

Arnold is prepared to leave it at that but judging by the somber reactions from everyone at the table it's clear that his answer was not what they wanted to hear.

"Oh." Lola is the first to respond. "That's nice Arnold."

There's a _but_ hanging at the end of her statement. It hangs for a few awards seconds, not that Arnold intends to address it.

Suzie on the other hand.

"But it's not really a long-term plan. Is it?"

"Well—"

"Come on Suzie, cut the kid some slack." Frustrated, Arnold chooses to ignore the fact that Mr. Potts just interrupted him and referred to him as a kid all in the same breath. "He only just got back. He probably hasn't even thought about it, right Arnold?"

"Uh, no—"

"See!"

"Still Arnold, you will have to find something more permanent than part-time jobs. There is no stability!"

"Hmm… Mr. Hyunh does have a point, Arnold. Oh, I know! Why don't you go work for Ernie! You won't mind will you sweetie?"

"Hey now, there's an idea! What do you say, Arnold?"

"No. That is a bad idea a very bad idea!" exclaims Mr. Hyunh.

"What! Why? He too good to work for my company or something?" Mr. Potts replies angrily.

"Whoa, hold on. I don't think that's what my father meant. Right cha?" Mai says, trying to play mediator between the two hotheaded boarders.

"It's dangerous!"

"No, it's not! I take all necessary safety precautions!"

"It's still dangerous!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Cha!"

"Ernie!"

"He needs a better job!"

"Ernie—Wait a minute! So you do think Arnold is too good for Ernie's line of work?"

"Lola, that's not what he meant." Intervenes Suzie. "You know he's just thinking of what's best for Arnold. I think he means Arnold should get a regular nine-to-five job."

"Ernie's job is a regular nine-to-five job, right Ernie!"

"Right!"

"Arnold should work inside. A respectable job."

"Oh cha…"

"Hey, my job's respectable. Besides all you said was that he should get a stable job—my job is stable!"

"A job his grandparents would approve of, you think Phil would want him working with you?"

Ernie huffs, "Well…"

"Ha! You see. He should get a safer, respectable job."

"Well, what's respectable?" Rhonda finally joins in, taking a long swing of what Arnold is pretty sure she hoped was wine.

"Some stuffy office job, I'm sure." Drawls Lola.

"Arnold is too adventurous for that. He'd want something more exciting I'm sure, like a firefighter or…oh! A pilot. Wouldn't that be fun?"

"How is flying an aircraft safer than my demolition company?" exclaims Ernie

"I agree, Suzie. Being a pilot is too unsafe."

"Oh well, I just thought—"

"You know, I always thought Arnold would make a great teacher," Mai adds softly.

Rhonda grunts as she finishes her cup of non-alcoholic grape juice. "Definitely. Arnold would be a great teacher except for the whole having to have teaching degree—he'd be a cinch."

"Hmmm…you have a point."

Mr. Hyunh slams his hand excitedly on the table, causing various plates to rattle, "That's it! Arnold should go back to school."

"Hey! There's an idea. I finally agree with you on something."

The arguments and tension around the table evaporates as everyone starts to discuss Arnold's _bright_ future as an _educated_ man, as a _college student,_ and as a _teacher_.

Arnold is quite while the whole ridiculous exchange is happening in front of him. Do they not realize that he's here? That they are talking about his future, his very uncertain and most likely dim future in front of him? He didn't say anything at fist partially because he had nothing to say and partially because he felt no need to defend himself. So what if he decided to spend his life working odd jobs? It's nobody's business but his own. He's an adult, dammit! He's capable of making his own decisions—has been for the last ten years.

Who are they to think that they know what's best for him?

Maybe that's it. Maybe they think he's not capable of making his own decisions. Clearly, his last major decision turned out to be a huge mistake. He spent ten years in the jungle accomplishing absolutely nothing. Not only did he waste time but he also threw away his future—a possibly bright future.

College, friends —a girlfriend. It all evaporated the moment he set foot on that plane ten years ago and for what? _NOTHING_! He could have been a college graduate by now—hell, he could've been a Ph.D. professor for all he knew. He could have been attending college ragers, football games, graduations, weddings—he could have been married by now. Maybe…maybe he would have been a father by now.

He could've had a family.

Arnold spent ten years of his life searching for his family trying desperately to fill the hole his parents and grandparents left in his life and the twisted part is if he hadn't spent all that time searching in the middle of the GOD DAMN _JUNGLE_ , he probably would've had a family by now.

 _FUCK._

It's a gut-retching realization. He threw away so much, so many opportunities, so many possibilities, for _nothing_.

"Oh, that's a great idea. That's exactly what Arnold's grandparents would have wanted; they would've been so proud!"

Arnold gets up so fast and so forcefully that the legs on his chair make a loud screeching noise as they scrap along the old wooden floor before falling over.

"That's enough!"

All conversations halt at Arnold's unexpected outburst. His anger is palpable and visible, as he stands there imposing and panting, making his broad shoulders move up and down. They all look at him stunned and confused. This isn't the Arnold that they remember, and they have no idea how to handle this bizarre situation. The fact that they have yet to understand how disrespectful it was to have a full fledge conversation about him IN FRONT OF HIM is maddening.

He feels like yelling. He wants to yell until his face turns blue. He wants to break the expensive china they have set out—HIS GRANDPAERNTS' CHINA! He moves, not exactly sure about what he plans to do. There's an audible gasp from everyone at the table as they shrink away from him and that's when it hits him.

 _What am I doing?_

He looks around at the frightened faces of the boarders, the closest thing he has to family, and starts to feel disappointed in himself. He's being petty and ungrateful. They welcomed him home with open arms when they should be upset that he left without so much as a goodbye or a see you later. He spots Alek huddled next to his mother's side, his eyes large and wet with unshed tears.

He feels sick.

"…I'm…I…sorry, I have to go lay down." He walks away, his loud footstep the only noise in the room. "Thanks…for the feast."

He reaches the stairs and is ready to run up to his old room when he finally starts to hear mummers coming from the dining room. He hears someone get up. Whoever it is, he doesn't plan on speaking to them, or anyone else. He reaches the top of the stairs when a voice calls out to him.

"Arnold, wait!"

Arnold sighs, "Rhonda I don't really feel like talking to anyone right now."

"I know. That's been plainly obvious. I just wanted to remind you about the reunion party. It starts—"

Arnold groans, "Seriously Rhonda? Did you not see me in there? A party is the last place I need to be right now. I'm not going." He turns away from her and starts heading for his bedroom once more.

"Oh no, you don't!" Rhonda rushes upstairs after him and yanks him back by the shoulder. "Shortman! It seems you have forgotten vital lesson number one, which is not to make me, Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, put forth unnecessary effort. Now, not only have I gone to the middle of nowhere San Lorenzo for you on an incredibly short notice, and not only have I had to consume carbs ruining my diet _and_ my hips, but now I have run up the stairs chasing after you, and Rhonda Lloyd runs for no man! The least you can do is come to the reunion, which is also held in your honor may I remind you."

"I didn't ask for a party, Rhonda," Arnold says, shaking her off. "I can't...everyone's going to be there, and…it's just too much, okay? Just let me be."

"Well, you know what Arnold? Suck. It. Up. This party might be in your honor, but it's not for you. I mean did you really think any of us ever expected to see you again? Half our class thought you _died_. You may want to be an uncaring jerk, but the rest of us aren't. I may not know what happened to you in San Lorenzo, but I know exactly why you decided to come back _here_. You can't keep running away Arnold. It's about time you started taking back some control and owned up to the things you did wrong. If you don't start making amends now _outbursts_ like the one you had downstairs are going to become a lot more frequent and then you'll really be sorry, only no one will be there to hear your apologies."

Arnold stares at Rhonda, speechless. Both Helga and he were wrong. It's not daddy's credit card nor her large gypsy eyes that make things happen—allows her to get her way.

It's this.

Rhonda has always been able to see through people, see through the bullshit. It's one of the reasons her and Helga got along so well.

She sees through him now, and it's unnerving, even more so than when she predicted his cowardly plan all those years ago. He was a coward then, and he's a coward now. His inability to face things has cost him a lot, ten years and the love of his life. He's sick of it, sick of himself.

"Yea, okay…. I'll be there."

"Of course you will," Rhonda says simply without a hint of smugness in her voice. "Now" she starts with a lighter tone, adjusting her hair. "I wasn't sure what rags you'd be bringing back with you from San Lorenzo but I'm assuming they're a poor choice for a fancy reunion party."

Arnold frowns.

"So I've arranged for a suitable outfit to be sent with the driver."

"Driver?"

"Yes Arnold, driver. I do not trust you to take a cab. Who knows what time you'd arrive."

"I can drive."

"With what license?"

 _Huh. Good point._

"Anyway, since I'm hosting, I won't be able to pick you up, but my driver will pass by at exactly 7:30 and not a minute later understood. That should give you enough time to get ready and attend the reunion—on time."

"Okay Rhonda, I got it," Arnold says letting out a long-suffering sigh. God is he tired.

Rhonda pats his shoulder in a comforting manner, well as comforting as the rich heiress can be. "You know, you've got a good five hours before the party. Why don't you go lay down, it was a long trip."

Arnold nods his head, "Yea, I'll go do that."

Arnold turns back around; shoulders slumped down in exhaustion and self-pity as he marches to his room. It's been an impossibly long day— _decade_ , actually— and he can't wait to pass out on his old familiar bed.

"Hey, Arnold."

He stops and looks over his shoulder at Rhonda. "Yea?"

"That thing that happened downstairs. Don't worry about it. I'm like 99% sure no one noticed."

Despite his mood, Arnold lets out a laugh.

* * *

 _"I hate family dinners…and gatherings, basically anything that requires my family to be in close quarters with one another."_

 _"Don't you think you're exaggerating? It's not that bad."_

 _"Oh, it is Arnoldo, but I wouldn't expect you to understand."_

 _"More than half the people at my 'family dinners' aren't even related to me."_

 _"So? They want to be there right? I bet your family dinners aren't cold, and uncomfortably silent. It's probably loud as hell and filled with laughter and dumb conversations. I can picture it now—so wholesome and sweet! Ugh, it's a real party at the boarding house…no wonder you don't get it."_

 _"Helga—"_

 _"Look, Arnold, you don't need a mother and a father to have a nice family dinner. You just… you need people that actually want to be there—that actually want you there and aren't scoffing down their meals so they can hightail it out of there…people that would notice you weren't there and… miss you." Her voice trails off._

 _He's staring at her but her image is fuzzy. He can't make out any details, just that she's faced away from him and staring up at the moon. A breeze passes by and carries the scent of her shampoo._

 _It smells like peaches._

 _"Did you just call me Arnold?"_

 _She whips her head around and like a picture coming into focus her, her eyes sharpen into crystal clarity. Two beautiful sapphires gems face him, shining down on him, fiercely and glaring holes into his head._

 **KNOCK!**

Arnold is jolted awake by the sound of knocking. He looks around his room disorientated. He fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow and has no idea how long he's been out for. His whole room is bathed in darkness and the only light that filters in are from the few stars in the night sky visible through his sunroof.

The pitiful amount of stars visible in the night sky already makes him homesick for the jungles of San Lorenzo. Strange, he thinks. He spent half his time in San Lorenzo missing Hillwood, missing his home, and now that he's back he seems to still be doing the same.

The knocking stops and his bedroom door is pushed open "Arnold? Are you awake?"

"Ahem." Arnold coughs, trying to get the sleepiness out of his voice, "Yea. I'm awake Mr. Hyunh, come in and could you get the light, please."

There's a click and the whole rooms is bathed in light, momentarily blinding Arnold. He blinks away the spots that appear in his vision and sees Mr. Hyunh standing by the door with a garment bag in one hand.

"Sorry to wake you, Arnold. This came for you." Mr. Hyunh says, holding out the garment bag.

"Thanks. This must be the outfit Rhonda said she would send for me."

"Yes. Her driver is waiting downstairs for you. So… you're going to the party she was talking about?"

"Guess she told you about it, huh? Yea, there really was no getting out of it and now I have to make sure I arrive looking "Rhonda-approved", which explains this." Arnold says holding up the garment bag. "I just hope Rhonda didn't over do it. I'd hate to show up to my reunion looking like Prince, no offense to the guy."

If he weren't so focused on the awkward tension surrounding them, Arnold would have noticed that that was the most words he had spoken in… a very long time. It was dangerously close to rambling territory.

"Hmm, I'm sure you'll look great Arnold." Mr. Hyunh hums before making his way out of Arnold's bedroom.

"Wait."

"Is there something you need?" Mr. Hyunh asks politely, almost coldly. It's not a tone the older man has ever used with Arnold.

"…I…the way I behaved today at lunch…I wanted to apologize, it was—"

Mr. Hyunh sighs and waves him off, "Arnold you do not need to apologize. I understand. We weren't very good hosts."

"But that's the thing, you guys were so welcoming and I was just being a big jerk about it—selfish too. I only thought about how I felt, not any of you."

Mr. Hyunh continues to wave him off, "Arnold it's okay."

"No, it isn't!" Mr. Hyunh jumps back a little, startled by Arnold's raise in volume.

"Sorry…just forget it." Arnold sighs.

Mr. Hyunh places his hands on Arnold's shoulders and gently pushes him to sit down on the bed. "Arnold I understand. There is no need to apologize…not to me at least."

Arnold says nothing and just looks at the floor in frustration. It's not okay. Everyone was talking about what his grandparents would think was best for him, what they would be proud of, but his behavior last night—hell his behavior from the last ten years would certainly make them turn over in their grave.

He's just so angry and… lost. He doesn't know how to channel the frustration he feels and he keeps messing up. He wishes his parents were here, to give him some direction. He'd given anything to hear his grandfather's antidotal advice again.

"You know not many people in this city understand what's it feels like to be… _overwhelmed_ by all the noise."

A silence follows. Confused as to what Mr. Hyunh is talking about, Arnold tears his gaze away from the floor and looks at him only to see that the older man's attention is directed upwards.

"I've never been to South American but I can't imagine it being too different from Vietnam. I use to live in the rural part of the country and the way of life was just so much—quieter. When I first moved to the Hillwood I was so overwhelmed by everything. It was all too much—the music, the lights, the people, it was all loud and noisy— it use to give me headaches."

Mr. Hyunh stops stargazing and focuses his attention on Arnold. "We were all excited about you being back home and we got carried away. It's just that it's been so _long_ since we've seen you we forgot you weren't a boy anymore. It's going to take some time to adjust, for both you and us, but I just want you to know that I understand. If you ever need some time for yourself, some _quite_ , don't be afraid to ask for it."

While Arnold does appreciate the sentiment, Mr. Hyunh speech is no replacement for one of his grandfather's, and while it does not make him feel any less angry or lost, Mr. Hyunh's words do make him feel less guilty, and that's a start.

"Thanks, Mr. Hyunh— for understanding."

The older man nods and pats Arnold's shoulder. "Well, I should let you get ready. Rhonda's driver is still waiting for you downstairs."

"Right. The reunion. I almost forgot about that." Arnold moans, rubbing his hands down his face. "I can't wait." He says sarcastically.

"You'll be fine Arnold. Everyone's going to be happy to see you."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that."

"Remember Arnold this is a reunion, there's going to be other people that haven't seen each other in ten years too, and they'll be just as surprised when they do."

Arnold humors the old man and gives him a tight-lipped smile. "Yea, you're right."

The balding man responds with his signature silly grin, seemingly pleased with himself and exits the room.

Arnold sighs and looks at the garment bag still in his hands. "I really hope Rhonda didn't overdo it."

* * *

After taking a very quick and much-needed shower, Arnold discovers Rhonda's taste is still as immaculate as ever—his fault for ever doubting her really. But after putting on the outfit, he's curious, and a little impressed, by how she managed to gauge his size so well.

The dark blue blazer and gray slacks fit like a glove. At the risk of sounding vain, he looks damn good. He's not one to dress up, but he likes how casual yet formal this outfit is.

Damn, Rhonda did good. There's going to be no living with her now.

Arnold takes one last look in the mirror, flattening down his unruly hair and runs downstairs. He sees a man in a black suit and cap, the driver he presumes, talking animatedly with Suzie.

"I don't know. I know it's a bit harsh to ban Legos in the house but stepping on them is just about the most painful thing—well, besides giving birth that is."

The driver laughs, "I know exactly what you mean. My son leaves those things all over the house. I got so sick of stepping on them I eventually started to hide them. Whenever he asks where all his Legos have gone, I just give him some speech about taking care of your things and not losing them by being too careless."

Both adults laugh.

"Ahem, excuse me. Sorry to keep you waiting."

"Mr. Shortman," the driver says startled, standing abruptly with a blush on his face. "Miss Suzie here was just keeping me company. Are you ready to leave, sir?"

Arnold looks suspiciously between the two, noting the twin blushes on their faces. "Uhh…yea, I guess. But, um, do me a favor and don't call me sir, or Mr. Shortman. Just Arnold is fine."

"Oh course, sir. I'll go get the car."

The driver excuses himself to Suzie and heads out before Arnold can insist he drop the formalities. Instead, he just rolls his eyes and leans on the doorframe.

"Well don't you look nice," says Suzie, wiping away imaginary lint off his shoulder. "Although, you are in need of a cut and a shave."

"I shaved." Arnold mumbles.

"Right. I believe you." Suzie laughs. "Now I may not be a detective, but somebody doesn't seem all too excited about their reunion party."

Arnold merely shrugs his shoulder. He doesn't want another repeat of his conversation with Rhonda or Mr. Hyunh "I am. Just tired I guess. Besides this monkey suit isn't very comfortable. I'm not even outside and I already know I'm going to feel like a popsicle."

"Guess you're more acclimated to warmer weather now. It's not even that cold out. Oh!" Suzie snaps her fingers, "I got just the thing." She walks to the hallway closet, the one next to the front door, and pulls out an old bomber jacket. It's big, old, and smells like mothballs.

It was also his grandfather's favorite jacket.

"Here. Why don't you wear this? It's sure to keep you warm. Just make sure to take it off before you head in. I'm sure Rhonda will think it clashes or something. Although, personally, I think it brings out your eyes."

Arnold takes the old jacket in his hands, running his thumbs over the worn leather. "It's perfect, Suzie. Thank you."

Suzie beams.

 **Honk!**

"That's your cue to leave."

"Yea..."

"Don't worry Arnold. I'm sure you'll have fun."

Arnold nods his head. He pulls on his grandfather's old jacket and makes for the door.

"Oh Suzie, before I go, I just...I'm sorry about earlier."

Suzie waves him off, "Already forgiven."

Arnold nods his head once more. "Mind telling Alek? I don't want him to think I'm some scary jerk."

"I will Arnold. Now go!" Suzie shoos him out the front door, "You don't want to be late."

Arnold waves her goodbye as he gets in the town car. The car pulls away, and the further away from the boarding house they get the more anxious Arnold beings to feel.

He's not sure how he's going to answer everyone's questions. Lying isn't conducive to reconciliation, so that's not something he plans do. He doesn't feel like he owes everyone the whole truth, though. He doesn't have to say why he left or for what purpose. Let everyone believe he's just a wayward traveler. It's closest to the truth.

Except, that half-truth isn't going to work for everyone. It's not going to on his best friend, former best friend—Gerlard. And it probably won't with his girlfriend, Pheobe, either. Arnold slumps down in his seat and groans. He is not looking forward to that conversation.

The only bright side is that Helga won't be there. If he thinks talking to Gerald will be hard, he can't imagine how difficult and complicated it will be to talk to her. There are no words for what he did to her. There is nothing he can say to make it better, or easier for her, so perhaps it's best that she not see him. To spare them both.

It's good she's not coming, he thinks.

But if it's such a good thing, why does he feel so unhappy about it?

* * *

Two chapters in one day! Yay!

Author's note in next chapter!

Now go on! Keep reading!


	3. Chapter 3

The town car pulls into the parking lot of his old high school. Arnold stares up at the old building, feeling nostalgic and almost like... he's lost in time —like it's wrong for him to be here.

The car door opens, and it hits Arnold like a ton of bricks. This is happening. There is no getting out of it. He has to go into that gym, talk to all those people and find some way to answer their questions. His heart starts to palpitate faster as his anxiety increases tenfold. _God_. He feels like he's back in high school but worse because this time he's sure he's not welcomed at the cool kids' table anymore.

"Sir?"

"Huh? Oh, right. We're here—sorry."

"It's alright, sir. I'll be waiting out here for when you're ready to leave." Arnold nods his head in understanding. He removes his grandfather's beloved bomber jacket and neatly places next to him. He doesn't want to risk losing it by carrying it inside. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves, and steps out.

Arnold stares up at the entrance. Unmoving.

 _You can do this._ Arnold mentally preps himself. You have faced down jaguars, fires, earthquakes—you flew to South America by yourself GOD DAMMIT! A high school reunion is nothing. He takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders. You got this. Remember this is for Mr. Hyunh, for Rhonda, for everyone he let down—for Helga.

Having mentally prepared himself Arnold heads inside.

The first thing he notices is the fact that the gym hasn't changed at all, not a single bit. You can dress it up any way you like—which Rhonda has done, quite nicely too— but it will always look like an old, dingy gym. Looks far smaller now, actually. _Wonder if it's because I'm taller._

The second thing he notices is the number of people here. Five people would have seemed like a lot to Arnold and there's easily more that 50 people in this room.

"Arnold!" A voice calls out.

For a moment Arnold's heart stops. _It's begun._ He turns, and when he spots Rhonda, he lets out a sigh of relief.

"Rhonda."

"Mmm, I did good." She hums in approval. "Walking in fashionably late. That's how you make an entrance, Arnold. Good job."

"Thanks…I guess." He mumbles under his breath. " You look great."

Rhonda gives a turn, showing off her form-fitting red dress. "Thank you. It's Versace," she says like he's suppose to know what that means. He doesn't but nods his head anyway.

"Well, go mingle. I have host duties to attend to." She leaves without another word, and with no room for Arnold to argue otherwise. He looks around uncertainly, trying not to draw too much attention to himself. Eventually, he decides to make his way to a fairly dark corner of the room, where he'll be fairly hidden and less likely to run into any people. A waiter passes by, carrying champagne.

 _Every good party needs champagne._

He grabs a glass and chugs back half. He'd drink the rest, but he wants to appear like he's doing something. After about five minutes of slowly slipping the rest of his champagne, Arnold contemplates leaving. Rhonda is busy playing hostess so he's sure she wouldn't notice. He is pretty close to the back exit. He could just slip through, unnoticed.

"Arnold?"

A quite voice breaks him away from plotting his escape route. He turns toward the voice. A pretty woman stands in front of him. His eyes roam her figure—admiring the way her green satin dress hugs her in all the right places before flaring out from her hips. He finally looks up to see her red hair is down and resting softly on one of her shoulders.

"Lila? Swayer? Is that you?"

"Why of course, Arnold." She giggles, "It is ever so great to see you again."

"Um…yea. It's been a long time."

She steps closer, practically in his personal space. "When did you get back?"

"Oh…um, today actually."

"Wow. Cutting it close, huh?"

"What?"

"The reunion, silly. You must have heard about it, right?"

"Umm, yea. Something like that. It was sort of a short notice." he says, taking a sip of his drink.

Lila looks at him for a while, head tilted to the side, and lips pursed. She's close enough that he can see the freckles she tried to hide behind her makeup.

 _She's pretty_ , he thinks. _The same as always._

"Hmmm…you don't have Facebook. Did Rhonda invite you personally? Or was it just a coincidence? You coming into town the same day as the reunion."

 _What the hell is Facebook?_

"Uhh…coincidence. I was just stopping by for a visit."

Lila squints her eyes in suspicion, "Really? Wow, great timing."

"Yea." Arnold laughs nervously and takes another sip.

"But I mean, you've been off the gird for a long time. Where hav—"

"So, Lila, what have you been up too?" Arnold asks, cutting her off. He desperately wants this conversation to end, but sensing where her line of questioning was leading Arnold decided to take action.

"Oh, well, actually…I'm married." She says, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear and that's when he spots the shiny ring on her finger. Wow, she's married. Wait. Now that he's aware of it, that ring looks familiar…

"Is that..."

"Great Aunt Ida's ring? Yes. I'm married to Arnie." There's a bit of an accusation in her voice, at the fact that he didn't know—despite them being family now.

"Oh…wow, that's amazing…congratulations." It's a lackluster congratulation at best. Great Aunt Ida's ring has been passed down from generation to generation in his family. It was the same ring his father gave his mother, and the same ring his mother left behind for him to keep. That ring burned a hole in his pocket throughout his senior year, he was so sure he was going to use it, but then graduation crept up, and he decided he couldn't very well marry someone—at 17 no less— when there was such a heavy burden weighing him down. He needed answers, he needed to find his parents. So he gave to ring to Arnie, his only relative left. He figured he'd get better use out of it, especially when he was about to break the heart of the only girl he ever loved. He didn't think he deserved to hold on to it after that.

"Thanks, Arnold. I wish you could have been there, but I'm glad you're here now." She says putting her hand on his. All accusation having left her voice. Good old Lila, you can always trust her to be nice and forgiving.

 _Maybe this won't be so bad._

"Yea." He takes another sip, "So, are you guys living here now? Where is Arnie by the way? I don't see him," he asks, looking around her.

"Oh we live in the country now, and Arnie's not here. He doesn't really like coming into the city. Besides, it's _my_ reunion party—not his."

Arnold nods his heads, "You like it out there? With Arnie in the country, I mean."

"Yes of course. It's a little quite sometimes, and we live pretty far away from our closest neighbor, so it can be a little lonely, but I have Arnie, you know? Of course, Arnie is always busy, running the farm and all. But he's a hard worker, so I understand. I come into the city often, though. To visit the old gang and stuff. But I mean… I grew up in the country, so I like it just fine. I'm a preschool teacher too! And, I mean, I love my job. The kids are amazing. So…yes, of course, I…" She trails off from her rambling, something behind Arnold having caught her attention.

She frowns, the lines on her forehead and around her mouth marring her pretty features. It's not an expression he's ever seen on Lila before.

Before he has a chance to question it further, Lila pulls him in close—wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Oh, Arnold! It is ever so great to see you again!" Lila exclaims, cheek pressed against his.

 _What the hell?_

"Arnold?" A familiar southern drawl from behind him asks.

"Stinky?" He asks, voice muffled from being pressed up against Lila.

"Oh! Stinky? Is that you?" Lila asks, in the same sugary fake voice she just used when she pulled him in for an incredibly close hug. She releases him, allowing Arnold to catch his breath. "It has been a long time! So long." She breathes, tucking her hair behind her ear once again.

"Willikers, Arnold, can't believe you're here. It's great to see you," Stinks says, "Uhh…you too Lilia," he says with less enthusiasm.

Arnold turns, head tilting up to meets eyes with the incredibly tall man. "Hey Stinky. Yea, it's been a while." Then his eyes travel to the attractive brown girl standing arm-in-arm with his old friend, "Who is this?"

"Wow, Arnold. Really? You gonna do me like that? You know I was the best date you've ever had—too bad I can't say the same thing about you."

"…Maria?"

"The one and only, baby." She laughs.

"Wow, it really has been a long time. Sorry, I didn't—"

Maria waves him off, "Don't worry about it, baby. So how you been? Stin here tells me ain't nobody seen you in ten years."

"You know, Arnold. There's a rumor going around that you were gonna be here tonight. I didn't think it was true, but I sure do now!" Stink slaps a heavy hand on Arnold's shoulder.

Arnold grunts" Uh, yeah. Here I am. In the flesh. I've been good though, just doing some traveling, but enough about me. How about you? What have you guys been up too?"

"Oh no, don't think you're getting off that easy. Where have you been? Everyone wants to know!"

Arnold takes another sip, "Oh well you know…here and there, traveling to different places."

Maria lightly shoves Stinky, "Hey Stin; you heard the man. Let him keep his secrets—why don't you tell him about the band?"

"Band?"

"Stinky is in a band…with Sid and Joey. Isn't it…ever so cute, Arnold?" Lila answers, taking a long sip from her champagne, which she did not have before Stinky showed up.

"Uhh…yea. We're called the Lost Cause. It's fun in all, but we ain't nothing big, Arnold."

"Oh don't be so modest, baby! They've been on the radio!" Maria exclaims.

Lila snorts, "Yea, but that's only because Stinky works there. It's not like he was even allowed to play his songs."

"Hey, who asked you? Why you gotta shit on everything."

"Maria—"

"Why are you even here? It's a class reunion; you're two years older than anybody else in here."

"I'm here because I'm with Stinky. You got a problem with that? Little country skank."

Lila gasps, "How dare you!" she throws her drink in Maria's face and storms away.

"Lila!" Stinky yells, making to go after her, but Maria grabs on him, "Don't you dare go after her," she says through clenched teeth.

"Ummm…here." Arnold awkwardly hands Maria a napkin he got from a passing waiter.

"Thanks, Arnold," She mumbles. "Come on Stinky, I gotta clean up—Stinky!" Maria pulls Stinky away, "Yea, sorry Arnold, got to go—but it was really great to see you. We'll catch up later—Maria wait!"

Arnold looks at Stinky's retreating form incredibly confused. He downs the rest of his drink.

 _What the hell just happened?_

His empty glass is taken from him and replaced with a new, full one. "Having fun?" asks Rhonda, having magically appeared by his side.

He lived in the jungles for ten years and besides the jaguar, no animal has ever snuck up on him. One day in Hillwood and now it's like everyone can sneak up on him. Have his nerves damaged his hearing?

"I saw Lila storming away, then heard Stinky's distinct southern accent and made the connection. Thought you could use some support."

Arnold looks at her confused, not understanding what possible connection there could be between a furious Lila and Stinky. Just having witnessed a furious Lila was strange.

"What? Do you know what all that was about?"

Rhonda laughs, "Arnold, please."

Arnold continues to look at her bewildered.

"Oh my God, you really don't know." Rhonda sighs, "Okay, well… did Lila tell you she married your creeper cousin?"

"Yea she did, but what does that have to do with—"

"Well, Arnold. I'm sorry, but I can't say more than that. I would just steer away from Lila; she's not exactly the person you remember her being. Trust me, you don't want to be caught in that mess."

"Umm…okay." He takes a sip of his drink. "Are all the encounters with my old friends going to be this dramatic?"

"Oh please Arnold, don't exaggerate. Just be lucky that wasn't Gerald, or worse—Phoebe."

Arnold gulps, "Are they going to be here?" he asks quietly.

"Gerald RSVPed, so yes—he'll be here. I'm not sure about Phoebe. She probably won't show up, though. Last I talked to her she wasn't coming."

Arnold nods his head; he is not looking forward to talking to either one of them. He can only imagine how angry they both are at him. Gerald, for being betrayed by his best friend, and Phoebe for betraying her best friend. "Do…Do they know? About where I was? Because Stinky and Lila asked me."

"Only a few people know, like the boarders, Gerald, Phoebe, and me, of course." She signals a waiter, who hands her a glass of champagne. "Helga knew too—obviously," She says before taking a sip.

Arnold nods, absentmindedly taking another sip of his drink. Then it occurs to him.

 _Knew?_

"Wait? What do you mean by—"

"Do you not want everyone to know? Where you've really been all these years?"

Arnold shrugs, "Not really, I guess. I kinda just told Stinky and Lila that I've been traveling. Really vague, no details."

Rhonda hums, "Well, if that's what you want." She trails off, "Look there's Nadine. Let me prove to you that not all our old classmates are dramatic psychos. Nadine!"

"Rhonda!" A tall woman in purple walks over, giving Rhonda a peck on the cheek in greeting. "Arnold? Oh my goodness! The rumors are true!" Nadine exclaims.

"Yup." Arnold says, nervously stuffing one of his hands into his pockets. "The rumors are true."

"Where have you been? What have you been up too? No one's seen you since graduation."

Arnold shrugs, "Just traveling. You know…here and there. What about you?"

"Oh well! I'm an entomologist. Bugs are life." She laughs.

Nadine continues to talk, sharing stories with Rhonda and Arnold, catching up on each other's lives. Arnold pitches in from time to time, not giving away any specific details, which doesn't seem to bother her. It's going well, but the night has just begun, and as he watches Nadine and Rhonda share a laugh there's only one thing Arnold can think of.

 _It's going to be a long night._

* * *

"I had no say in the name once so ever. I was just fine leaving it as is, I mean Green's Meats is a community staple! But, what do I know? Juniorhas a fancy business degree and is technically the owner." Harold shrugs and takes a swing of his drink, "But whatever, business is doing good, so I can't really complain."

"At least not too much." Patty chimes in.

Harold and Patty laugh.

"Yea, I saw a huge line on the drive to the boarding house today. It seems like you're doing great Harold."

"Thank you, Arnold."

"Congratulations by the way. Rhonda told me you guys got married. I'm surprised you guys didn't bring it up."

"Oh well, we're not the type to brag, but thank you, Arnold."

A small silence follows, but it's somewhat more comfortable now. This late in the evening the music is loud, everyone is either dancing or laughing, and people are pretty drunk. It's a good atmosphere—familiar. Reminds him of the _"good old days"_ as many of his former classmates having been saying tonight.

Arnold has felt more at ease as the night progressed. It helps that most of his old classmates got over the shock of him being home rather quickly—really quickly actually. Not that he wanted all the attention.

He got asked the usual questions, of course; _"How you been," "Where have you been," "What have you been doing all these years?"_ Arnold is as vague as he can be when answering these questions, and while some of his friends insist on more, most take the opportunity to segue into talking about their own lives—their _awesome_ , grown-up lives.

I'm an entomologist.

I'm a singer.

A Teacher.

Entrepreneur.

Rich.

Well-off.

Married.

Happy.

 _GOD! Enough!_

Eugene is a _freaking_ Broadway star. _Eugene_! Clumsy, forgettable Eugene.

In high school, Arnold was voted, Mr. Congeniality, and most likely to become President. Now, among a group of people on the cusp of putting their best years behind them, he's probably the most pathetic in the bunch. Arnold takes a long sip of his drink, finishing it off. He's sick of feeling sorry for himself, but he feels even worse about being so envious of his friends' success. It's not their fault his life went nowhere. In fact, if he had listened to them, he'd probably be a teacher or something by now. He'd be successful, married probably—happy.

"How come you guys aren't dancing?" Arnold asks, trying to get his mind off depressing thoughts.

"We could ask you the same thing, Arnold," laughs Patty.

Harold puts an arm around his wife, "That's mostly my fault. I sprained my ankle about a week ago. Slipped while walking into the freezer. It's better now, but I don't want to risk hurting it again by dancing."

"Don't forget you also threw out your back." Says Patty, placing her arm on Harold's back, which causes him to wince and pitch forward.

"Yea, don't remind me."

"Whoa, Harold. That's tough, you okay?"

Harold waves him off, "Yea, course. Just had to take some time off work. No big deal, doctor says I should be good as new in a few days."

Harold smiles like it's not a big deal, which it probably isn't to him; he's sustained much worse injuries from his time playing high school football, but Patty certainly isn't smiling. She looks worried, anxious almost, toying with the locket around her neck.

"You okay, Patty? You look a little worried."

"Oh, yea. I'm okay…it's just…it could be weeks, honey—not days."

"Patty." Harold stresses, " It's not a big deal. It'll be okay." Harold and Patty stare at each other, but not in the loving way they had been doing earlier. Their stare-off is fraught with tension, and Arnold is left in the middle feeling awkward.

To diffuse the awkwardness, Arnold resorts to his go-to question of the night.

"Umm, Patty. I didn't ask, but what have you been up to? Besides being married, that is."

Patty breaks her stare-off with her husband. "Oh. Well, I went to school. Majored in psychology."

"Really?" Arnold asks, surprised. As he recalls, Patty hadn't applied to college. Harold had decided long before their senior year that he wasn't going to go to college. He's had a full-time job working at Green's Meat lined-up since he was ten and having no greater ambition Harold didn't see the point of going to college. Patty being his long-term girlfriend decided to stay in Hillwood with him. Her reasoning was she couldn't afford college, and while that may have been true, everyone knew the real reason she didn't apply is because she didn't want to leave Harold.

It's sweet. Harold and Patty weren't voted Hillwood high's cutest couple for no reason.

Arnold thought a lot about Patty's decision in the days before his departure. It was such a loyal, and romantic gesture—to put your dreams on hold for someone else. He contemplated doing the same, but ultimately he just didn't have the same selflessness that Patty had.

"Oh, wow. Congratulations. What made you change your mind about school?

"Well, when I decided I had been working at the grocery store, and flower shop for about three years. I was just getting tired of having to schedule shifts for each job, and doing the same thing every day I guess. I was also volunteering at the youth center downtown—still am, actually—anyway, I was trying to encourage one of the kids to go to college. She's really bright but unmotivated. She called me out for pushing her to go to college when I never went. So I decided then—why not? It was hard work, but it paid off—I think."

"What school did you go to?"

"Cal Poly, it's out west, but I went to community college here first before I transferred."

"Whoa, that's far. And you guys stayed together through all that? I got to say that's pretty amazing." And it is. Patty must have been out west for who knows how many years, and with her limited funds he's guessing she didn't travel back home too often. The fact that they're married today is a testament to the love they have for one another, and to be honest, Arnold is a little jealous.

Patty and Harold share a look, "Um actually, Arnold" Patty starts

"We broke up." Harold finishes.

"Oh. I'm sorry I—"

Patty laughs, "It's okay Arnold. Clearly, everything worked out."

Arnold lets out a shaky breath, relieved he didn't accidently insult them "Yea it did. I am honestly very happy for the both of you."

"Thank you, Arnold."

Arnold takes another swing from his champagne glass. There are other types of drinks being served, but Arnold has stuck to the champagne because of how light and bubbly it is, it allows him to drink more without feeling so drunk. Although, this late into the night Arnold is plenty drunk. Not drunk enough to want to dance, but drunk enough to want to keep talking.

"So, Patty, I guess you're a therapist now—huh? That's great! I may have to utilize your services in the future," He jokes, one of the few he's made tonight.

"Oh, well, no. I only have a bachelor's. I'd have to go back to school to get certified. Besides, I don't think I'd be much help to you. My area of focus is children."

Arnold smiles, "Children? That suits you. It's good to hear you're going back to school."

Harold and Patty share another look—a hesitant look.

"Yea, well—"

"We're still discussing it" Harold interrupts, "We're just focusing on being married for now."

Patty frowns, "Yes...for now."

Harold coughs, " Um, Arnold it was great talking to you, but I think Patty and I are gonna start heading out. It's been a long night."

Patty turns to Harold, her frown deepening, "Yes. I think that's a good idea." She turns back to face Arnold, her features turning from angry to pleasant once more, "But it was really great to see you again. I am so glad that you're back in Hillwood. You were missed more than you realized." She gives him a quick hug, faster than Arnold has time to process—especially in his inebriated state. "Call us. We can make plans to catch up, outside of this." Patty gestures to the room.

"Ok. I will." Patty's invention is the perfect opportunity for him to start making amends, and to get up to speed with all the things he missed in the last ten years.

Harold and Patty walk away, leaving Arnold standing closer to the dance floor than he feels comfortable with. He walks away toward the refreshment table, feeling a bit guilty for making Harold and Patty leave. Clearly, there are some unresolved issues between the two, and he unintentionally brought those issues to the surface. Patty once gave up everything to stay with Harold, and it turned out to not be the best decision for her. Who's to say being married to Harold isn't keeping her back from fulfilling her dreams—from reaching her potential. It's clearly something the couple has discussed before.

A sick part of him is a little happy that they're not the perfect couple everyone at Hillwood high made them out to be.

As he reaches the refreshment table, intending to get yet another drink and perhaps a bite to eat to lessen the fog around his head, a person bumps into him spilling their drink on the blue blazer Rhonda lent him.

"Shit!"

"Oh, man! Sorry," The other man slurs, the stench of alcohol heavy on his breath. "But you know, that's easy to get out. I sure it won't even stain. Wait, Arnold? Arnold!"

Arnold looks at the man, annoyed that he will surely receive a tongue lashing from Rhonda for the ruined jacket. He looks at the other man, who looks likes he is close to tipping over as he sways on his feet. The man has dark hair, not shaggy but long enough for a cut, and dark bloodshot eyes.

Arnold stares.

He does not know this man.

"Um, do I know you?"

The drunk man laughs, loudly and brazen—he sounds insane. He sounds familiar.

"Come on Arnold, you know me! Just try picturing me with big ass glasses!" The man laughs again and flashes him crazy eyes.

"Curly?"

The man stops laughing, "It's Thad, actually. Short for Thaddeus."

"Right. Thad. I forget Curly isn't your real name."

"Everyone does." He takes a big gulp of the remainder of his drink. "So how the hell are ya' Arnold. It's been ages! To be honest, I thought you were dead. And now 'cuz of you I'm out twenty bucks."

"What? Did you bet someone I was dead?"

"Nooooo," Thad stress, "It was a pool. Most of the people in this room were in on it."

"There was a pool!"

"Yea, we took bets on whether you were dead or not, how you died, or why you left—where you left! So since you're not dead. Care to tell me the why and the where?"

"Um... I went traveling...to, um, different places."

Thad looks at him, confused "Ooookkkkk...um, that couldn't have been any less sepecify—what about the why?"

Arnold shrugs his shoulders, toying with the empty glass in his hand, "Do I need to have a why? I just wanted to go."

"Uh-huh." Thad looks at him, long and hard, his glassy, bloodshot eyes sharply focused on him. Arnold is nervous he'll want to know more, but he's more frightened of the fact that maybe Thad knows why he left, and where he went to. Curly has a great deal of intuition; it wouldn't surprise Arnold if he saw him for the coward he is.

"Well, good enough for me." Thad finishes the rest of his drink in one swing and lets out a burp "Not like I care, I lost the pool."

Arnold lets out a sigh of relief.

"Hey, you want a drink? I'm buying." Thad laughs and grabs two drinks from the table. It's not champagne, but Arnold isn't picky.

"Thanks." Arnold takes a sip, it stings more than the champagne and smells like the drink Thad dropped on him. He's going to have to be careful that he doesn't drink too much. He'd hate to end up looking like Thad.

"So, um, what—"

"Stop!" Thad takes a big swing of his drink, some of it dribbles down his chin and onto his shirt. " _What have I been up to? How have I been?_ That's what you want to know right, Arnold?"

"Um, yea..."

"Well, to put it short, not good, Arnold. Not good at all—well, some good." He smirks. "There's an upside to being divorced and unempolyed."

"You were married?"

"Not the point, Arnold." Thad throws his arm around Arnold's shoulder, and pulls him closer. The alcohol on his breath smells even stronger this close, and Arnold has hold his breath to stop from smelling it. "I have found the key to a bitter existence, my friend. You wanna know what that is?"

"Not really—"

"Completely giving up and giving in. I know what that sounds like, but trust me, it's not so bad. Once Diana left me and I got fired for having a quote-unquote _"breakdown"_ I decided—to heck with it! I don't care anymore. And you know what, I am having a blast! You see this suit I have on? Armani, and I didn't even pay for it!"

Arnold pushes him away, "God, Thad, did you steal that!"

Thad laughs his psychotic laugh, "Of course not. I got a hot piece on the side that paid for it. In fact, I got a bunch of pieces paying for all my things—food, rent, expensive shit—you name it!"

"Pieces? You mean, like girlfriends? Do they know you're cheating on them?"

"That's the best part, Arnold! They're the ones cheating."

"Huh?" Arnold asks, genuinely confused by everything coming out of Thad's mouth.

"You sir, are looking at a professional sugar baby!"

"A what?"

"Sugar baby! I wine and dine married cougars." Thad boasts.

"So you're like a prostitute?"

"The correct term in gigolo, but that doesn't apply to me—at least mostly. I don't sleep with all the rich heiresses, just some—the hot ones. They pay for my company—not my Johnson."

"Thad..." Arnold is at a loss of what to say, for he can't imagine an old friend of his doing something so depraved and disgusting—even Curly.

"I know, I know. Awesome, right!" Thad downs the rest of his drink, and places the empty glass on the table, already reaching for another one.

"Thad...no! What the hell, that's..."

"That's what, Arnold? Are you going to give me a long speech about how wrong that is? Because we both know that your sage advice has decreased in value over the years. I mean, who the hell knows what you've really been up to all these years. What I'm doing couldn't have been worse than whatever the hell you did. Besides, what I'm doing is consensual on both sides—no one's getting hurt."

"Except for their husbands"

" _Pfft_! Like they care, it's not like it's true love between those old coots, if it was their wives wouldn't be seeking the pleasure of my company. Geez, Arnold, you act like you've never hurt anyone before. You know I'm the only one in this room willing to tell you the truth; everyone is too busy being a phony, telling you how _great_ they're doing. The truth of the matter is we're not kids anymore, and those long, carefree days are long gone and being an adult _sucks_!" Thad takes another swing of his drink, "You of all people should know that, you ran away."

"I didn't run away, I—"

"You know Helga left not long after you did."

Arnold gapes, "What…what does that—"

"We all suspected you ran away 'cuz you knocked her up. I mean haveing a child with Helga G. Pataki? I'd run away too. Anyway, we all figured she left Hillwood because she didn't want to prove any of us right, that there was going to be a little Arnold running around soon."

"I...I didn't impregnate Helga. That's not why I left! I would never so something like that!"

"Whoa," Thad holds up his hands, "If you says so. All I'm saying is don't be so quick to judge, 'cuz it's not even like you've done a banged up job of being a responsible, mature adult. Look man, talking to you has been a real downer. Me and my drink are gonna head over someplace more friendly." Thad begins to walk away. As he retreats to another corner of the gym he yells out, "Good luck trying to convince yourself you're not totally unhappy like the rest of us!"

Arnold stutters, trying to come up with something to say. How dare he insinuate...how would he know how he's been...who the hell is he to...HOW DARE HE! Arnold clenches his fist in anger and watches him leave, he's surprised that Thad has enough balance to walk in a straight line, let alone make it across the room. God, he could use a drink.

"We call that functional alcoholism in my business. As long as he's functional, he can get out of needing therapy, which is good for his image. " says a deep soothing voice.

Arnold spins around, startled. A man in a sharp deep red suit stands behind him, looking tall and stylish.

"Gerald?"

"You see many other black dudes 'round here? Of course it's me." Gerald responds in a cool tone, betraying nothing of how he feels about Arnold being here. Is he surprised? Happy? Angry? Arnold doesn't know, and the uncertainty surrounding them makes the situation even more tense and awkward than it already is.

"You know you're on your way to achieving Curly's level of functional alcoholism, right?" Gerald says referring to the drink in his hand, which is nearly empty. "I ran into him at Harold and Patty's wedding. Dude was wasted before the ceremony even began."

Arnold looks down, embarrassed. He's had a lot to drink tonight but Gerald doesn't need to know that, "Thad gave me this. I'm not too sure what it is, but it's strong. It's the only drink I've had tonight."

Gerald raises his eyebrow, the same way he use to every time he'd see Eugene wearing socks with sandals.

" _The level of disrespect he's exhibiting is just too much Arnold! I mean, dang. Does he not have any respect for himself?"_

" _They're just socks, Gerald."_

" _It's a crime of nature is what it is. Walking around like a damn fool wearing socks and sandals. Hmmm-hmmm, that just ain't right."_

"Well, the stench of yo breath begs to differ." Gerald says, a tone of the same disgust when discussing Eugene's sock-sandal combo present in his voice.

"Uh, well, like I said. It's a strong drink."

Way to start off on the right foot Arnold, lying to your best friend.

"You know, we may not have spoken for the last ten years, but I know when you're lying. You were never really good at it."

Arnold frowns, "Fine." He inhales the rest of the drink, the alcohol burning him as it goes down, and places the empty glass on the table. "That was officially my last drink of the night. Happy?" Arnold growls out. It's not a great way to start off a conversation with a best friend you haven't seen in ten years, but Arnold is still upset over the conversation he just had with Thad, and he's taking out his frustrations on Gerald. It doesn't help that he's pretty drunk too.

"Happy? You have got to be kidding. You think I'm happy to see you?"

"You're not?" Arnold asks, genuinely surprised. He predicted Gerald would be angry, and even though Arnold is drunk and frustrated, he is still very happy to see Gerald. He's not happy about the circumstance or Gerald calling him out on certain character flaws he's trying to ignore, but he is happy to see him. Happy to get the chance to make amends, and to explain why he did what he did.

"No. Look, I get that you'd have a big head about this. The reunion being held in your honor or whatever, but it ain't all about you. I mean dang, we haven't seen each other in ten years and instead of asking me how I've been all these years—like a good friend should—you get all pissed off cuz I'm telling you the truth." Gerald sighs, "But you know what, I stopped expecting you to be a good friend years ago. Later, Arnold."

"Wait! Gerald!" Arnold reaches out grabbing Gerald's arm.

"Man let go of me!"

"Gerald, please." Arnold pleads, letting go of Gerald's arm, "I was being a dick. Can I just…can you give me a chance? For old time's sake."

Gerald huffs and crosses his arms "Old time's sake, huh? That's the corniest— _sigh_. Fine, Arnold, what you gotta say for yourself?"

What does he have to say for himself? That's he's sorry. Sorry he lied to him, ignored him for all these years, left without saying goodbye. Sorry that he's such a mess, that he threw away the best friendship a boy could ever have. He wants to say to Gerald that's he's going to be better, that he wants to rebuild the friendship he ruined—wants to redeem himself.

"I'm…"

It's on the tip of his tongue—the over due apologies, the regret, but instead he says;

"I didn't find them, Gerald."

It's the first time he's admitted it out loud and the despair is evident in his voice, mourning the loss of his parents. That shouldn't have been the first thing he said to Gerald but when Arnold saw him, he didn't automatically see a stranger he left behind ten years ago, he saw his best friend. The person he could talk to about anything.

This whole night he's had to pretend that he's been okay, that he's been having fun the last ten years traveling from place to place, and, honestly, it's exhausting. He just wants to scream, and cry out that he's not okay, and that he doesn't know how to move on from here. He desperately craves the affection and comfort that he had with his grandparents, with Gerald—with Helga.

So he breaks, he cries out to a man that is more stranger than friend now, to someone who has all the right in the world to not forgive him, or take pity on him.

Gerald stares at him, expressionless for a long while then he lets out a sigh and drops his arms. "I'm sorry, Arnold."

Arnold appreciates it, but it's not lost on him that it should have been him to apologize first—not Gerald.

"Thank you. I know that's not really an explanation or anything, but I just—"

"Gerald?"

Arnold pauses. A tall, gorgeous dark-skinned woman walks up to Gerald, interrupting his long-overdue apology.

"What's taking so long? I've been waiting forever on that food."

"Sorry, baby." Gerald put his arm around her, brining her close and places a small kiss on her cheek. "I ran into an old buddy. Nina this is Arnold, Arnold this is Nina—my fiancé."

"It's a pleasure, Arnold." Nina extends her hand in greeting.

"Uh, Hi. It's nice meeting you." Arnold shakes her hand. "Fiancé? Wow, that's surprising." If there was going to be a woman hanging off Gerald's arm, Arnold was sure that it would be Phoebe.

Gerald frowns at him, understanding why Arnold would be surprised to see a different woman by his side. "Arnold..."

Nina looks between the two, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Arnold has been out of the country for a while, baby. He's a little behind on some things. That's all."

"Oh. Okay. Were you guys close?" Nina asks, still confused by the tension surrounding the two men. "I mean, no offense, but I don't think Gerald has ever mentioned you."

"Nina!"

"No, it's okay. We were on the same basketball team—that's all. But we drifted apart after we graduated. It's hard to get reception when you're in the middle of nowhere." Arnold jokes, surprised at how easy the lie came to him. It's not exactly a lie, but it isn't the whole truth either.

"Middle of nowhere?"

"Yea. I travel, backpacking through South America mostly."

"Oh, ok. Did you just get in?"

Arnold nods his head, "Yes, I just did—today. Still jet-lagged."

Nina shakes her head sympathetically, "I understand. Our plane was delayed and we just landed about an hour ago, we had to rush to get over here. We didn't even have time to stop by and get anything to eat."

"Oh, well there's some food right here." Arnold says referring to the refreshment table their standing next too. "It's mostly finger foods, but that's all you can really expect from Rhonda."

"Rhonda…the host, right? Versace dress? God, she's gorgeous!"

Gerald laughs, "Don't let her hear you say that. If her head gets any bigger she's going to have a hard time walking through doorways."

Nina laughs, "You're terrible! Okay, well, I'll leave you boys to catch up, while I go get some food. Be right back, baby."

Nina leaves the two former friends alone. Even though there's a lot of noise around them—music, laughter, chit-chat—it feels eerily quite between them. Gerald has tucked his hands into his pockets, he stands tall, and imposing. He's not going to be the first to speak, not that he should be.

"She's beautiful, Gerald. Congratulations."

Gerald nods his head in thanks, but says nothing.

Arnold sighs, "Gerald I know you're angry with me, and I understand—"

"You have no idea how I feel, Arnold! Last I remember I was the one who was abandoned by their best friend—not you. Look I don't need an explanation about why you left, because I get that, I really do, and I'm honestly sorry that you didn't find your parents Arnold, but you can't just come back and expect everything to be okay."

"I…that's not why I came back. I—"

"Then why did you come back? There's nothing here in Hillwood for you, Arnold. You were better off going some place new!" Gerald yells out, get some attention from people near them.

"Gerald would you relax? I'm trying to explain—to apolo—"

Someone grabs Arnold's shoulder and yanks him back, cutting him off. He's really starting to get annoyed with people doing that.

"What the hell? Rhonda?"

Rhonda is holding on tight to his arm, pulling him towards her and away from Gerald. Arnold resists, and pulls back, not having finished airing things out with Gerald.

"Rhonda, let go. Gerald and I are having a conversation."

"Sorry, Gerald." Rhonda says over his shoulder, "But Arnold has to leave now."

"Oh really? So you got Rhonda covering for you now, Arnold? That's real mature. Way to run away from things." Gerald scoffs.

"What? No! I didn't tell her to do this. Rhonda, let go!"

Rhonda grabs him by the shoulders, "Arnold look at me. It's very imperative that you leave at this instance."

Arnold shrugs her off, "What the hell for? You were the one that wanted me here in the first and now you're ordering me to leave. No! I'm staying."

"Please." Rhonda pleads. "You have to get out of here, I'll explain everything but you have to—"

"Arnold!" A voice calls out from behind.

Rhonda shakes her head and pleas once more for him to leave. What the hell has her so spooked?

"Phoebe?" Gerald breaths out, surprised

Arnold turns around.

"Gerald?" Phoebe asks, equally surprised.

"Phoebe." Rhonda growls.

"Rhonda." Phoebe replies coldly. She turns her attention to Arnold. "Arnold! I've been looking all over for you."

Arnold tunes her out, staring past Phoebe at the person standing right behind her.

"Helga?"

She looks up, her sapphire eyes meeting his. Her luscious blond locks tucked neatly into a side braid, her soft skin glowing under the harsh lights of the gym, and her plump lip looking bright and red as she bites down on it. She's alluring as always and even more beautiful than he remembered. She looks at him, confused and without the same spark of anger and passion she once held in her eyes. She doesn't look upset, or sad, or even happy to him.

She looks lost.

"Actually, I go by Geraldine. And you are?"

* * *

 **Author's Note**

And there you have it! Helga...or should I say, Geraldine, is finally introduced. Now this is where the real fun begins!

Okay first off I owe all of you a really big apology for taking so long to update. There are many reasons as to why that is, but I do not want to bore you all with the reasons. So as sort of an apology I wanted to make sure that the next time I updated that I would post more than one chapter. You guys deserve way more than two chapters but I didn't want to keep you guys waiting.

On that note, I also what to give a big great **THANK YOU** to everyone that read, reviewed, favorited, and followed this story. I got so many nice reviews and so many followers that I am actually stunned by the amount of positivity and feedback I got for this story. I honestly, did not expect that, so from the bottom of my heart **THANK YOU!**

I really hope you guys enjoyed these chapters. I know they're kind down right now with Arnold being so angsty, but hopefully with Helga—I mean Geraldine—back in his life things will start to turn up for him.

Also quick note: FF has been screwing with my original docs, so if you see any weird typos please ignore them. I'm sorry, but there is only so much I can do!

 **Another quick note!** I have created a mood board-ish thing for this story. It's not an actual mood board since I don't have photoshop, but you can see the images that I put together for this story here: /gibarra9116/collections

It's under the collection titled REMEBER TO FORGET YOU

Okay well, as always respectful cirtisism is welcomed! And I'll see you guys nect time! ;)

 **AMOR. AMISTAD. Y ALEGRIA**

 **LOVE. FRIENDSHIP. AND HAPPINESS. Mis Amigos. 3**


	4. Chapter 4

She told Phoebe she didn't want to go. It was going to be awkward and stressful. No real point in going if she wasn't going to enjoy herself.

Phoebe argued at first but eventually relented. Phoebe understood how uncomfortable social settings made her. Too much explanation. Too much pity. Phoebe hadn't brought it up again until the day of the reunion. Initially, they had planned an evening in, just the two of them. Phoebe was going to help her cook some of her favorite meals. A spark. She says. Everything they did together was in favor of "the spark." Some hopeful activity to try to bring her back—the _old_ her.

She loves Phoebe. She does, really. But she wishes the petite woman would stop trying. Nothing she did would bring her back. Helga was dead. And nothing anybody did would bring her back.

* * *

 _There's a man next to her. Handsome. His brown hair is thick and shiny. A few stray strands fall into his warm brown eyes. Yes. He is indeed handsome, at least she thinks he's supposed to be handsome. Like it's a fact that's he's good looking, but she doesn't actually get that feeling looking at him. It's hard to when his face changes so much._

 _The dream she is having is always the same and the man is too, only he looks slightly different in each one, or perhaps he just has a generic face._

 _That's an odd way to think of your fiancé. He is her fiancé. She brings her hand up, and there is the proof. A big shiny rock on her finger. He looks over then. A giant, loving smile on his face. That's all she's ever wanted; to be loved. Ever since she was a little girl, a bitter and lonely girl. She finally has that now, someone who loves her, but it feels all wrong. There's something about their love that is not genuine, or perhaps she is just selfish, greedy for more. She feels the pit in her stomach gnawing at her and clenches her stomach in pain._

 _"You okay? Stomach acting up again?"_

 _"Yeah. But it'll pass."_

 _"You should probably see a doctor about that."_

 _She bites her lip, the pit grows wider, threatening to swallow her whole. She needs to tell him. She has to face this._

 _"Actually—"_

 _Her words are cut off by a bright light. Blinding. For a split second all there is is a bright white light. She feels everything. A small moment in times that goes on forever. Then nothing. Darkness follows._

She awakes with a start. Another night ruined by the same dream—nightmare. She's been continuously plagued by nightmares since…well, as far back as she remembers. She looks out her window. It's still dark. It's too early to get up and do anything, so she lays still in her bed staring up at the ceiling and thinking of nothing in particular, no wandering thoughts, not even trying to make sense of the nightmarish images that keep her up at night.

Her eyes wander around her childhood bedroom, taking in all the pink, the posters, the pictures, the dusty books, and—nothing. She feels nothing. No recognition or comfort. In fact, she feels uncomfortable, like she's sleeping in a stranger's room. Helga's room.

She talked to Olga about making her room _hom_ _ier_. Olga suggested a room makeover to make it look more like an adult bedroom and not a teenager's room. She liked the idea, but when she suggested repainting the room orange, Olga gave her the weirdest look as if she had casually suggested dancing naked in the moonlight.

Olga looked at her like she was crazy like she didn't recognize her. Her parents look at her the same way, which is why even after the sun comes up she spends an extra hour in bed doing nothing. If she waits long enough, her father and Olga will both be gone, and her mother will be taking her mid-morning nap. Then she doesn't have to put up with the awkward stares.

She lies in bed for a long as her stomach and bladder allow before reluctantly getting up. Hoping she won't run into anyone. Unfortunately, she didn't stay in bed long enough.

"Hello, baby sis!" Olga greets, holding a hot, steaming mug in her hand.

"Morning." She greets simply, "Um, that wouldn't happen to be coffee, would it?"

"Of course!" Olga beams. "It's your favorite. I even added cream and four spoons of sugar, just the way you like it." She sings.

"Olga," She sighs, "That was very sweet of you, but I don't drink coffee, remember? I like tea."

Olga scrunches her eyebrows in both confusion and disappointment, "Oh, right. Sorry, I forgot. You like tea now. No matter! I shall brew you some tea while you eat your breakfast. I made smiley face pancakes; they're on the counter."

She nods and walks over to the counter. Two sunny side up eggs and a few pieces of bacon sit atop two fluffy pancakes, greeting her with a smile. Another sigh. She doesn't like bacon, and she prefers her eggs scrambled but bites her tongue to keep from complaining. She's told Olga this before, but she insists—everyone insists—that she loves bacon and that Olga's smiley pancakes are her favorite breakfast meal. Oatmeal is actually her preferred breakfast, but well, that didn't get a great response either.

She's in the middle of finishing her breakfast, a hot chamomile tea at her side, when Phoebe barges in, a determined look on her face—oh no, this does not bode well for her.

"Morning Olga…Geraldine." She greets cheerfully.

"Phoebe!" Olga greets. "I thought you were coming over later?"

"So did I," Geraldine says, taking a sip of her tea. "Did something happen?"

"Well, I just received some startling news, and I've been thinking about it—we should go to the reunion."

"Phoebe." Geraldine groans. "We talked about this. I don't want to go."

"Oh! Come on, baby sis, it'll be fun! Seeing everyone again, it will do you some good."

"No, it won't. It's just going to be very uncomfortable. I mean, what if someone comes up to me and I have no idea who they are. At best, I'll unintentionally be rude to people, and at worst, I'll have people treating me like some…I don't know…broken doll. Remember Mr. Wartz? He kept talking to me like I was hard of hearing. Or that stoop man? He thought I was crazy! No. I'm not going, and that's final." She gets up, puts her dishes in the sink and walks away.

"But Arnold will be there!" Phoebe stresses, causing Olga to gasp.

"Arnold?" Olga whispers, "Really?"

Phoebe nods her head, "I just heard the news this morning. What do you say, Geraldine?"

Olga, her big sister, and Phoebe, her best friend; the two people who know her best in this world stare at her, a look of eagerness and anticipation on their faces. She knows that look. It's hope. They are hopeful that what they just said will stir something inside her, something familiar. The spark.

She hates to let them down.

"Is that suppose to mean something to me?"

Both Olga and Phoebe physically deflate.

"Well,…that's that," Olga says, going back to her morning chores. All trace of hope lost. Except for Phoebe whose dark eyes glow with a fierceness unfamiliar to her. She is not going to let this go.

"I'm not letting this go." She says, "We are _going_ to that reunion. You haven't seen these people in years—I haven't seen these people in years! If we don't go now, who knows how long it will be before we all see each other again."

"Phoebe, that's not how it works for me. I'll be meeting these people for the first time." Geraldine argues, making her way upstairs.

"Don't think of it like that. It's just friends catching up. Sharing stories. And who knows! You might remember something."

"It's been nearly a year, Phoebe." She huffs, "If I don't remember anything now then the chances of that changing are unlikely, but hey! You tell me, you are the expert."

"Yes, I am!" Phoebe shouts, "And in my professional opinion, going to this reunion can only help." Phoebe grabs her arm, pulling her back, "Please, don't make me beg. I really want to go to this reunion, but I don't want to go without my best friend."

She looks down at her small friend, Phoebe's expression hopeful and adorable all at once. Her puppy dog eyes. She doesn't know Phoebe as well as she should, but since day one, something about her has seemed familiar—comforting. Just staring into her large dark eyes makes her feel at home. That feeling is hard to come by, especially for Geraldine. Even now, living in her childhood home she doesn't feel that, only around Phoebe, and sometimes around Olga does she feel safe, familiar.

Maybe she's being ridiculous about not wanting to go. It makes sense that if she can feel this type of connection with Phoebe that there might be others at this reunion that she can feel just as close with.

Geraldine sighs, "I don't have anything to wear."

Phoebe squeals, "Yay! Don't worry about that. There's still plenty of time before the reunion tonight. I'm sure we'll find you something to wear."

"Yay." Geraldine cheers sarcastically. "I'm so excited."

"Now that's the girl I remember. Typical Helga."

* * *

"Hmm…maybe I spoke too soon."

"What? You don't like it?" Geraldine asks, grabbing hold of her cream skirt as she turns from side to side in, inspecting herself in the mirror. "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing." Phoebe says quickly, "It's just…not really your style."

"You mean Helga's style."

"Yes. But as I've reminded you plenty of times, you are Helga. It's just a little too…tame, I guess."

"Tame? What? Did I use to dress like a slut or something."

"Heavens, no. I mean, this is just a little too Martha Stewart—You look nice, don't get me wrong. I mean, I'd probably wear this, it just looks…odd, I guess, on you."

Geraldine hums, appraising her sensible outfit—a powder blue three-quarter shirt with a cream flare out skirt and two-inch kitten heels. She understands what Phoebe is referring to. Helga's style is worlds apart from her own. Helga preferred darker clothing, plaid, and a whole heck of a lot of denim. Frankly, she was never a big fan of her past outfits and has been slowly trying to replace everything in her closet.

"Well, I like it." She states simply, "Except for my hair; I'm not sure what to do with it. I could put it up, but I'll look too much like a 50's high schooler."

"Agreed. Why don't you just wear it down? It looks nice."

"I guess, But I don't like having my hair down."

"Yeah, you were never a fan of keeping your hair down. Here, let me braid it for you."

"Thank you." Geraldine sits down as Phoebe works on her hair, a happy smile on the petite woman's face. Phoebe always gets extremely happy when a glimpse of the old Helga peeks through. They both don't like their hair down. That's a good sign. Maybe tonight will be a good night, or maybe _the_ night. The night she finally gets her memories back.

* * *

Everyone stares at each other, at her—silence. Awkward.

Exactly what she feared.

"I know you, don't I." She says, hesitantly, as four pairs of eyes stare back at her.

Things had been going smoothly when Phoebe and her first arrived. They had arrived a bit late, and the reunion was already in full swing. The first people they had run into were the Berman's.

They are a lovely couple, newly married. One of the few people that knew all about her already. They seemed to be in a hurry to leave, so conversations were cut short. Then there was the hostess, Rhonda, a confusing woman. Geraldine didn't know whether to qualify her as friend or foe, which according to Phoebe had been the nature of their relationship since grade school. There were other people she ran into as well, some who still lived in Hillwood and knew all about her, and other people she was just meeting for the first time.

"Um, Geraldine, this is Arnold, you remember Arnold, don't you? I told you about him this morning." Phoebe says gently, switching from talking to her as a friend to talking to her as a doctor.

Geraldine looks at her confused then looks over at the green eyes, staring at her in shock. "Oh, right. You're the honoree, right? Or the one that just got back or something?"

The green-eyed man says nothing.

"Sorry, that must sound really weird, because based on your facial expression we do indeed know each other… right?"

Silence.

She turns to Phoebe, "Right?"

Phoebe nods, "Right. Um, Arnold, this is Helga—but as she said, she prefers to go by Geraldine. And Geraldine, you also know, Gerald." She says pointing to the dark-skinned man standing behind Arnold. "We all went to school together."

"Hi." Geraldine greets shyly, "It's nice to mee—I mean, see you again."

"Um, Likewise?" Gerald says confused, "Okay, what the hell is going on? Is this another one of your pranks? Is Harold in on it?"

"You know Harold?" Geraldine questions.

"It's not." Phoebe answers fiercely; she turns away from the stunned crowd to look at her, "Geraldine, do they seem familiar to you at all?"

She turns back and stares at the two stunned men in front of her. Gerald looks suspicious. She wonders what the nature of their relationship is, perhaps not too trusting. She looks back at the quiet green-eyed man. He looks surprised, yes, a little nervous too, maybe even a little bit happy to see her. But the wandering look in his eyes is all too familiar to her—he's lost. Maybe he doesn't recognize her any more than she recognizes him.

She turns back to Phoebe, shaking her head in disappointment. "No. Sorry."

Phoebe sighs, "I was afraid of that."

"Maybe you two should head out, get some air before rejoining the party. It can't be good for Helga—I mean Geraldine—all this stimulation can be too much." Rhonda suggests.

"Oh, I'm sure you know what's good for her." Phoebe retorts, angrily.

Geraldine stands awkwardly in the middle, use to their squabbles over her, and none too pleased with being talked about like she's not there.

"Helga?" The green-eyed man, Arnold, breaths. "How? What…"

His question hangs in the air, interrupted, as another guest appears.

"What's going on?" A beautiful dark-skinned woman asks, wrapping an arm around Gerald.

"Hey, Baby. Um, we were just…uh, catching up with… old friends."

"Don't tell me. We know each other too." Geraldine groans.

"Uh, no? I went to a completely different school in a completely different state. Name's Nina; it's nice to meet you—ugh."

"Geraldine." She introduced herself, shaking Nina's hand. Happy to actually be meeting someone for the first time and not someone she's supposed to know.

"So how do you know Gerald? Old friends?"

She receives even more odd looks from the group at Nina's question. Gerald looks apprehensive, Rhonda looks annoyed, Phoebe looks analytical, and Arnold…well, his intense gaze hasn't left her sight for a second, and truth be told it's making her uncomfortable.

"Uh, well…" Gerald starts awkwardly.

"You know, I think Rhonda was right. This is too much for me. I'm going to head out. Enjoy your evening." She turns around swiftly and makes a quick retreat, Phoebe hot on her trail. "Geraldine wait!"

She's almost at the door when she hears, "HELGA!" yelled out. The music drowns out most of it, but some people hear and turn to look at her. She makes it to the emergency exist before anyone can stop her, and never once looks back.

Once outside she takes a few deep breaths.

"Are you okay?" Phoebe asks.

"Sure. I'm just peachy keen, can't you tell?" She replies more abrasive than her usual self. "Sorry, I didn't mean to say it like that."

Phoebe smiles, despite the attitude, "Don't worry, this I'm used to."

"You're used to your best friend being short with you."

"Ha. A lot more than you know." Phoebe sighs, "I'm sorry. I pushed again. I should have know that this would have been too much. It's not wise to put you under any more unnecessary stress. Does your head hurt at all?"

"My head is fine. It's just; I knew this was all going to be too much. I mean, I must have had a mean reputation because I ignored a couple of people that I didn't recognize that were clearly trying to get my attention and that was fine. No big deal, they seemed to expect it almost. I thought, okay I could do this and then…I don't blame you, but you put me in a situation where I clearly knew those people, and we were all blindsided that I couldn't remember them. Who are they anyway? I mean, did you hear that Arnoldo guy yelling at me? What I do—"

"What did you say?" Phoebe asks, cutting off her rambling.

"What?"

"That last part, about the guys you met."

"About how we both knew each other?"

"No. His name. What did you call him?"

"Arnoldo? What? What about him? Why are you smiling?"

"His name is Arnold."

"Oh. Great! You see, I can't even get his name right. I don't know why I—or you— thought I'd be able to remember anything."

"No. Hey, it's okay. Despite what happened I think we made great progress today."

"You do? Why?"

"Well…social interaction is crucial for all types of recovery."

"I guess," Geraldine mumbles, "Phoebe, I'm tired. Can…can we please just go home?"

"Sure. Hey, what do you say about staying over at my house? It'll be like the sleepovers we use to have. I can even show you old yearbook photos and tell you a little bit about the guys you just met."

"Ha. Yeah, that sounds like a great idea. Although, in retrospect, that would have been more beneficial before the reunion."

"True. But no time like the present." Phoebe smiles, directing Geraldine to her car.

* * *

"HELGA!" Arnold screams, even though she's already out the door.

"Arnold! Would you keep your voice down? People are starting to stare." Rhonda hisses, still grabbing onto his arm and keeping him from running after Helga. "Come on; we have much to discuss."

"What the hell was that all about?" Gerald asks.

"I'm sorry to cut the reunion short, Gerald, but Arnold has to come with me now. How about you two catch up tomorrow—Oh I do so hope you will be staying in town a while longer."

"We are." Nina answers, "You look gorgeous by the way."

"Oh, thank you." Rhonda gushes, "I may not know you very well, but I can already tell you're too good for this one." She says, patting Gerald's arm. "Arnold, let's go."

"What? But…Helga…and…Gerald, I'm sorry…I…"

"Don't worry about it, man. We'll catch up later!" He shouts at their retreating forms. Gerald probably would have been upset with Arnold's leave had he not been equally confused with his encounter with Helga.

Arnold is already halfway down a deserted hallway before he realizes that he's physically stronger than Rhonda. He pulls his arm away, roughly stopping them both.

"Ow, Arnold, I think you broke a nail."

"What the hell happened back there?" Arnold practically shouts, "Why'd you keep me from going after her?"

"What? Are you serious? Did you forget the fact that she has no idea who you are!"

"That's just Helga being difficult. I get it. She wants to hurt me like I hurt her."

Rhonda huffs, "Oh p-u-lease. This isn't about you Arnold. Look, I meant to tell you this earlier, but, well, it never seemed like the right time, and honestly, I didn't think she would show up tonight. Not that I think it was a good idea. I told Phoebe—"

"Rhonda," Arnold says, putting his hands on her shoulders to stop her rambling. "What are you talking about?"

"Arnold," Rhonda sighs, "Helga…she…she was in an accident. It was really bad. She was in a coma for a few weeks and when she finally did wake up— _sigh_. She has retrograde amnesia. She can't remember anything…besides what's she's learned in school, I guess. Not Hillwood, her parents, Olga, her childhood, college, and apparently… not even you."

"What…" Arnold asks, dazed as he drops his arms, "That's…I mean…how could that happen?"

"I can't give away too many details, Phoebe wouldn't like that, but Arnold, she's not getting any better. It's been nearly a year since the accident and still no signs of remembering."

"A year?"

Rhonda nods her head, "If you ask me, she's getting worse."

"Worse? Like what, she can't form new memories? Is she going to forget she saw me tonight?"

"No. Nothing like that. Only her past memories were affected, not her ability to form new ones. I just…I know how this is going to sound and I don't mean it in a callous way, but, the truth of the matter is…Helga might as well be dead."

"What? Rhonda! How could you say that! I mean, she's here. She survived. She's fine…right?"

"I don't know all the details about what going on up here," Rhonda gestures to her head, "I mean I don't know if she's healthy or if her brain is dying on her or whatever, but what I do know is that the longer Helga goes without remembering, the more she turns into another person. You saw her in there. She goes by Geraldine—Geraldine! Her middle name. She hates her middle name!"

"That doesn't prove anything."

"Arnold, listen to me. I know that you must have all kinds of feelings about seeing her again and as much as it pains me to say it, that person you met in there, she looks like Helga, she might even sound like Helga, but it's not her. At least, not the Helga we remember."

"It's been ten years, Rhonda, I knew from the start she wasn't going to be the same. It's too much to ask a person to remain the same—I didn't."

"Well, I know that. But I mean, at her core, Helga was a passionate, brave, adventurous, and strong person. She's none of those things; she might as well be Mary Jane or Plain Jane or some other forgettable Jane. She's timid, submissive, and too polite. It's just not Helga-like. She's like Lila, but worse."

"Okay, I'm done hearing about this. You're too much Rhonda. I thought she was your friend."

"Helga _was_ my friend. Geraldine is another creature altogether. Trust me, Arnold, you're better off staying away."

"Rhonda, I appreciate all you've done for me, I really do, but you know I can't do that. There is no one in the world that I have to apologize to more than her. I'm not leaving her, especially when she needs me the most."

"Right." Rhonda huffs, "As if her life wasn't going on well without you."

"What is that suppose to mean?"

Rhonda huffs angrily, "You know what Arnold, fine. If you don't want to heed my warning, then why don't you ask her yourself. I'm through with helping you out." Before Arnold can ask her to explain further, Rhonda marches away from him and back into the gymnasium. Arnold catches the door before it can close and watches her strut towards Gerald and his fiancé. Arnold lets the door close before Gerald can spot him. Arnold can only handle so much in one night, and this news trumps his reunion with Gerald.

He makes his way outside, towards the car that drove him here.

"Back already, sir. That was rather quick." The driver says.

"I need you to take me somewhere. Can you do that?"

"Yes, sir, where we headed?"

"To visit an old friend."

* * *

He tells the driver to go home, or wherever it is that Rhonda keeps him. If Rhonda was serious about not helping, he doesn't want the driver to get punished on his account. Besides, the Sunset Arms is a short walk away from here.

He builds up the nerve to knock on her door. It's not like she'd open the door and punch him in the face, like the many angry scenarios he envisioned their reunion going. In fact, he's more scared that she'd open the door and not recognize him. It's not a scenario he thought would ever occur, but well, according to her, they did just meet, and the lighting in the gym wasn't the best. It's possible she wouldn't recognize him or even remember his name. He finally knocks, and of course, it's not her that answers the door but her dad.

"What do ya' what?" Mr. Pataki yells, his deep voice having gotten gruffer with age.

"Uh, hi, Mr. Pataki." He starts nervously, feeling 5 inches smaller and ten years younger. "Umm… I'm sorry to disturb you so late—"

"Yeah, yeah…what do ya' want? Ya' here for Olga or something? Or are you trying to sell me something 'cuz I'll tell you right now I'm not buying!"

"Oh, no sir, I'm actually looking for—"

"Daddy? Whose at the door?"

"Some salesman or something—don't worry about it, honey."

"A salesman?" A blond head peeks out, "Arnold? Arnold, is that you?"

"Uh, yeah. Hi, Olga."

"Daddy," She says, pushing her dad out of the way, "This is Arnold, he's a friend. Let him in."

"Arnold? Alright, alright. Come in, but don't make too much noise. I'm watching the game."

"Thank you, sir," Arnold says as he walks in. Feeling a bit peeved that the older man didn't remember him. He did date his younger daughter in high school. On second thought, maybe it's best that he didn't remember. He is also the guy that broke his daughter's heart.

"Arnold it's so great to see you." Olga throws her arms around him in a hug. "Oh! You must be here for Helga!"

"Yeah, actually. I saw her at the reunion, but she left before we could talk. Is she here?"

"No. She's sleeping over at Phoebe's. But come, come, we have a lot to catch up on." She tugs his arm and brings him into the kitchen. "Would you like something to drink? Water? Coffee? I have tea!"

"Um, no, thanks. I don't want to intrude; I only came to talk to Helga. I can come back later."

"Arnold. How much do you know?"

"What?"

"Phoebe told me Rhonda is the reason you're back in Hillwood, and well, she must have mentioned something, or else I doubt you'd be here."

"I always intended to come back. To come back to her."

"Would you have come back if you'd known that she was married, or if she had children, a family and was happy? Would have been here if you knew she had moved on?"

"Olga, I know what I did was…just…it was bad, beyond bad. It was horrible. But I always intended to come back, at least to apologize. I owed her at least that much."

"That's sweet, Arnold. But the answer is no. If she had moved on, then the best thing you could have done was to leave her alone. And deep down, I know you know that, so, tell me. What do you know?"

Arnold goes on to tell her all that Rhonda told him. "She thinks, to put it lightly, that Helga is gone. That Geraldine is not Helga, but I mean it's just a name. I should know, she used just about every name in the book aside from my actual one."

Olga hum, "Well, I wouldn't put it that way. I mean she is my baby sister."

"Exactly!"

"But…regrettably, she is right."

"What?"

"Arnold, you have to understand. This accident was not just physically traumatic but also emotionally and psychologically damaging. I've been with her from the beginning, and she was so lost...she's beginning to get better, by which I mean she's moving on, but in crafting a new life for herself, she has shed and forgotten the old one. I miss my old sister, but I honestly think it's what's best for her."

"How could you say that? Don't you want her to remember? What about all her old memories of you?"

"We have plenty of memories now, even more than before. Arnold, it's a miracle that she survived—all the doctors said so. It's as if God granted her a second chance, and who am I—or you or anybody–to stand in the way of her healing? I'm not saying it's easy, she's so different now, but maybe that's who she has to be to move forward. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you're back, and I'm by no means saying you can't talk to her but, maybe it's best if the both of you start fresh. You know, a blank slate? I just, I don't think it's the best thing for her if you…bring up old memories—especially hurtful ones. It could set her back." She places her hand on top of his, "I hope you can understand?"

Arnold looks away, his face stoic to hide his conflicting feelings. "Yeah…yeah, I…uh, I can…I can respect that."

"Thank you, Arnold."

"I should go…yeah, it's getting late."

"Alright, take care, Arnold."

"You too, Olga."

She closes the door and turns off the porch light, leaving Arnold and the rest of the street in darkness. Of all the scenarios he pictured when he finally saw Helga again, he never pictured this. He pictured, angry, heartbroken, indifferent, hell, he even pictured her happy, not to see him but happily moved on. He should be happy for her, but it was honestly his worst fear, far worse than her never wanting to speak to him. He likes to think that he would have fought for her, but the truth is, he would have let her be. He's not sure if it's the coward in him or the good guy, but if Helga, who more than anyone deserves to be happy, had found happiness—without him—he would have left her alone.

In a perverse way, maybe this is Helga's happy ending. She gets to start over, without all the heavy baggage of her horrible childhood or him. He has a lot he wants to say to her, a lot he wants to make up for, but how can he, in good conscience, do that to her if it means inviting heartbreak back into her life.

He was so selfish when he left her the first time, and he promised himself he'd be better this time. Maybe this is how he repents, by helping her move on. No matter how much it hurts him. Helga deserves this; she deserves to be happy.

He promised her once that for all the days of his life he'd try to make her happy. Maybe now, for once, he can actually keep his word.

* * *

 **Author's Note**

Wow! You must all hate me cuz that took forever! But, I do have reasons! You know life, new job, I've been sick—Whatever! But, I'm also working on a High school AU that will maybe be a sort of prequel to this story—maybe— the story might change since I've seen the Jungle Movie. How amazing was it btw!? It hit all the notes for me and was a real stratifying ending!

Still, I'm greedy!

 **SEASON 6! SEASON 6! SEASON 6!**

Ok…moving on.

I want to thank all the new readers that hit that favorite and follow button. So, hello, welcome and a big thank you from me to **Smckoy929, aroyal22, PureAngelEyes, Cluelesslittlerabbit, flornior, heyarnoldfangirl, marianamcr.93, faye1508, kyekye, GoldenBug Prime, nikkali44, .Erebus, Kirlupe9, Sally B. Mcgill, inugami18, maditaulbee, Casey852, SuperCasshern, xTheo, Gintaman 12, K.T. Waterflower, prettyoddmhr**

 **WOW!** That's a lot! THXS!

Reviewers!

 **Guest:** Thank you. I didn't realize until I started writing how angsty I made Arnold. I'm glad to hear that's it's not too much. I didn't want to make him off-putting.

 **Badwolf123465:** Thanks again! It's draining to write such an angsty Arnold, but I'm glad readers are still connecting and liking him. He's totally OC in this fic. OH! You must hate that I left chapter 3's ending hanging like that for months. I hope you have some answers now.

 **Vip189** : Oops! I made you wait too long. I hope you came back!

 **Guest** : Right? A character can only stay lovable for so long before real life sets in.

 **Guest** : I feel the same way. I understand Gerald being mad and Helga and Phoebe too, but everyone else needs to like move on. Still, he did do a pretty shitty thing.

 **Nep2unne** : I feel like Arnold didn't tell anyone for exactly the same reason he isn't telling anyone now and that's because he basically proved everyone right about his parents being gone and he feels like a fool for not listening. I love Thad, too. I feel like he's just as crazy now as he was when he was a kid. About Lila and Stinky—it's not a bad breakup (wink-wink). I feel like Harold and Patty are like the future Arnold and Helga could have had if Arnold had stayed. They definitely parallel, so pay close attention.

 **Guest** : Awe! Thank you! That means so much to me! I try really hard to make the story believable and well-written, so THXS!

 **makarina** : I will continue this story! And I will finish it! I promise! No matter how long it takes…

 **heyarnoldfangirl** : Thank you! I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

 **kyekye** : Thanks! I know, I tend to write a lot and ramble a bit, I'm working on it! I hope you liked this chapter better.

 **nikkali44** : Thanks! I have plenty of sad and awkward stuff coming up!

 **vampygurl402** : I did! Sorry for the long wait!


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